Frenemies
by scarlett onyx
Summary: Eddie starts out for a drive one night and finds more than he bargained for.  Can the Master of Fear and the Prince of Puzzles coexist peacefully?   no slash
1. Not a Bunny

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Eddie or Gotham.**

Edward Nygma was bored. And as if that wasn't bad enough, he was irritated as well.

The Riddler didn't take well to boredom. He preferred to keep his overly-active mind occupied at all times, and while it _was_ occupied…it was _not_ occupied with something he wanted to think about.

This was the cause of the irritation.

The green-suited man sat at the table and tried to figure out what to do about the problem.

The problem was, of course, the newest, grandest, and most pompous heist of the century, which he _would_ pull off…he just had to figure out _how._

Eddie stood up abruptly.

His "home"(if you could call it that, the place was little more than a few walls thrown together with a door and a ceiling on top) was hardly the ideal environment for his plotting. No, if he wanted to get any work done, he'd do what he sometimes did when he wanted to think of something brilliant- go for a drive.

After all, there was such a thing as thinking _too_ hard, and sometimes even the most brilliant of mind's (his, obviously) could do with a little distraction.

And if Gotham's traffic wasn't distraction, he didn't know what was.

A short time later, Eddie was seated in a light green car he'd…acquired, and driving down a back road through Gotham. So far, his little road-trip wasn't doing anything for his mind. He sighed, frustrated. _Well, don't think so hard, then!_ He thought snappishly.

_There must be _something…

Suddenly he saw a large brown shape in the glare of his headlights.

The Riddler slammed on the brakes, narrowly missing whatever lay in his path.

Pausing a moment to catch his breath after the near catastrophe, Eddie strained his eyes to see what it was. _A deer…a dog…and overgrown rabbit?_

Cautiously, Eddie kicked open his door and jumped out, rounding the vehicle.

He paused again to let his eyes get used to the bright head-lights.

Bending slightly, he neared the thing in front of the car.

The Riddler's eyes opened.

That was no bunny.

**A/N: Oh, dear! What could it be? Like it so far? Let me know! : ) **


	2. Beat up Scarecrow

**Disc.: don't own Eddie or Jonathan or Gotham**

Cautiously, Eddie crept towards the still figure on the pavement.

No movement stirred the brown form.

_Was it…was he…dead?_ the Riddler thought anxiously, moving a bit closer to the man, for it was indeed a man, and one Eddie was familiar with as well.

A stream of blood that was running from the mouth of the man's frighteningly stitched mask glowed softly in the car's headlights.

The Riddler moved a foot towards the Scarecrow and gently prodded him in the side with the toe of his shoe. He was pretty sure the burlap-clad man was unconscious, but he didn't want to risk getting gassed in the face if he wasn't.

There was no response from the masked figure, so, bolder now, Eddie strode out in front of the Scarecrow and knelt down, carefully pulling up the edge of the man's mask.

Rogues aren't generally squeamish folk-most have seen their share of blood and gore, whether it was their own, or some other unlucky person's.

However, what the Riddler saw when he lifted the Scarecrow's mask was enough to make his stomach try to turn itself inside-out. Jonathan Crane's face looked like someone had tried to smash it in. A large cut dominated his forehead, one eye was blackened and swollen, and his glasses were half on and laced with spider-web cracks. One side of his lips was swollen and bleeding- the source of the blood dripping from his mask.

The Master of Fear's eyes were shut and his breathing was shallow. And Eddie knew that if someone didn't take care of him soon, he'd at the very least bleed to death from that nasty head-wound. The Riddler looked around. Whoever had done this was probably long gone by now. Still….

_What if they came back before Crane woke up? _Eddie thought. He looked back at the Scarecrow, then sighed.

Well, there was only one thing to do…

**A/N: Poor Jonathan! Sorry it's so short…more updates coming soon!**

**And thanks for the reviews! I love you all! : )**


	3. Mummys and Scarecrows

**A/N- Sorry this took so long…I didn't have access to a computer for a while :/ **

**Here it is!**

**Disc.- don't own Eddie, Jonny, or Gotham.**

The Riddler sighed heavily and slumped into a chair. He was exhausted.

Despite the Master of Fear's scrawny build, unconscious he was dead weight and it had taken a lot of effort to get him into the car, back out of the car, down the few rickety steps into Eddie's latest lair and into one of the spare bedrooms. The Lord of Despair had remained dead to the world the entire time, something deep down the Riddler was greatful for. It was awkward enough trying to haul the injured Scarecrow around _without _him actually comprehending what was going on.

Nygma sighed again and got up, shuffling over to the bed where Crane now lay like a forgotten toy. His scrawny limbs were splayed in all directions, his head tucked slightly into his shoulder, making him look like a puppet that had had its strings cut.

Pulling a large white box from under the bed, the Riddler took from it some bandages and antiseptic and set to work.

About and hour later, Eddie had managed to clean and bandage the worst of Jonathan's wounds. He'd been relieved to find that not all of them were as bad as he had previously thought, but the Master of Fear did have several cracked and/or broken ribs and the cut on his forehead had required stitches- one of the Riddler's least favorite things to do. _Riddle me this,_ thought Eddie, _which is scarier? A mummy or a Scarecrow?_

He smirked. Jonathan Crane really did look more like a mummy. Packing up the first-aid kit, Eddie shoved it under the bed and turned to leave the room, half hoping that Crane would stay unconscious long enough for him to think up a reasonable explanation for this rather…awkward arrangement.

Somewhere between plotting and planning, the Riddler had fallen asleep.

His dreams were full of mummys and bleeding scarecrows and when he finally jerked himself awake, he didn't feel like he'd slept at all.

The light in the hallway was on, he thought groggily. Why was the light on…

Then he remembered. Eddie jumped up. He'd left the light on so he'd remember to check on Jonathan! Again half-hoping the Master of Fear was still asleep, he crept down the hall and opened the door. Crane was still lying in the same position Nygma had left him in, but his breathing had evened out some. _He'll probably wake up soon._ an annoying little voice in the back of Eddie's brain whispered. He shook his head. Everything would be fine. He hoped.

**A/N: Well, I basically wrote that to get out of writer's block and transition into the next part, which will be better, I promise! Thanks to all the reviewers! You are all awesome! : )**


	4. The Scaremummy Awakes

**DISC: Sadly enough, I am not the owner of Jonathan Crane, Edward Nygma, or Gotham.**

Jonathan Crane woke up slowly, groggily registering his surroundings. He was some place…soft. Pavement, at least in his experience, was not soft. Maybe he had somehow managed to drag himself home…

Painfully, the Master of Fear opened his eyes…and gasped.

He was definitely _not_ at home.

Where _was_ he? Jonathan thought wildly. His last memory was the thugs, the pain, the sourly metallic taste of blood in his mouth, then blackness. He'd had the strangest dream…

And now he was here. But where was _here_?

_Don't panic._ Jonathan snapped inwardly. He liked being in control…but he was certainly not in control of this situation now…_Analyze._ Jonathan demanded in his mind. _Observe._

He was in a green room.

_Pam? No._

This green was far to garish for the Princess of Plants. Besides, there wasn't a plant in sight. Turning his head slightly-and wincing at the pain- Jonathan looked at the small bedside table.

Then he knew.

Nobody else had question-marked lampshades.

?

"_**NYGMA!"**_

The Riddler jumped at least a foot in the air as the roar erupted from the room down the hallway. It was at least an hour past dinner time, and Eddie had just made himself a nice sandwich when he was startled nearly out of his wits by the shout. The Riddler set down the food, suddenly not hungry anymore, and tugged at his collar nervously. Then, smoothing his hair back and straightening up in one fluid motion, he headed towards the hallway. The Scarecrow was injured. How much damage could he do?

**A/N:** **Hehehehe…poor Eddie. He's in for it now…even if it's only a verbal lashing. **

**XD**


	5. Gaining Trust

**DISC.: Don't own Jonny, Eddie, Gotham, etc.**

"Ow…ow…ow….OUCH! NYGMA!"

"You know, this wouldn't hurt so much if you'd just hold still."

"I AM HOLDING STILL!"

The Riddler sighed in frustration. He'd been trying to clean the large cut on the Master of Fear's forehead for the past ten minutes, as the blood had begun to seep steadily through the stitches, making Jonathan look like a Frankenstein experiment gone wrong.

Eddie was being as gentle as he could, but the Scarecrow's constant squirming was not helping.

Said Scarecrow had just about had enough.

"It's fine." he growled, weakly trying to smack Eddie's hand away from his forehead.

The Riddler swatted Jonathan's hand back down in annoyance. "Will you relax? I'm almost done."

Jonathan muttered something under his breath, but-being too weak to do anything else- slumped back impatiently against the pillow.

Finally, Eddie put away the medical equipment and placed a clean bandage over the stitches, just in case. The instant it was in place, Jonathan began struggling to sit up.

The Riddler immediately shook his head, pushing him back down.

The Scarecrow grimaced. "I'm leaving."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Jonathan, I did _not_ pick you up off the streets, drag you here, and clean you up so you could just go and undo everything! I _chose_ to help you out of the kindness of my heart, and so help me, you are _not_ leaving until you are fully functional!"

The two men glared at each other for a minute- one catching his breath after the considerable verbal tirade, and the other trying not to show his surprise at the first's words. Finally, the Scarecrow slumped back on the pillows, crossing his arms and trying not to wince as he did so.

"Fine. Get me something to eat."

Eddie raised an eyebrow. "Beg pardon?"

"Food. You know, the substance I need to continue living?"

The Riddler smirked. "Again, I took you in, cleaned you up…if you want something, the least you could do is say _please_."

Jonathan glared at him, refusing to say anything.

Eddie turned on his heel and headed for the doorway. "Ok, then."

He was about to leave when he heard the distinct squeaking of the bedsprings and saw the Scarecrow trying to get up out of the corner of his eye.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." he cautioned.

"And why not?"

"You're too weak. You try that, and I assure you, you'll fall over."

Jonathan sneered. He was _fine_. Even if he did have a concussion, he wasn't dizzy, so it couldn't be a very bad one. 'Fall over' indeed…

Easing his feet out of bed, the Master of Fear swung his legs over, stood up, and promptly…fell over.

A wave of dizziness washed over him and he realized he was a good deal more worse off than he had previously thought.

But instead of hitting the ground as he'd expected, and probably earning himself another concussion in the process, Jonathan found himself being held up by…Eddie.

Nygma had his arms under Jonathan's, keeping the Lord of Despair from collapsing altogether.

"Idiot." Eddie muttered, and Crane had no choice but to put an arm around the Riddler's shoulders as he carefully helped him into bed again. "What did I say about standing?"

Shaking his head, the Riddler straightened up and headed back to the doorway, calling behind him, "Don't do that again."

"Wait." Jonathan said as Eddie stepped over the threshold.

"What?"

"I'm still hungry. Bring me something…."-the Master of Fear grimaced-"_…please._"

The Riddler smiled. "Ok."

?

"I hope you like peanut-butter."

"It'll do."

Jonathan took the sandwich from Eddie and began to devour it. The Riddler found himself wondering when the Scarecrow had last eaten. He waited until Jonathan had finished his meal, then asked, "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

The Master of Fear considered this for a moment.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because…because I don't want to."

Eddie raised an eyebrow. What could have happened to the Scarecrow, that he didn't want to talk about it?

Well…he'd find out later.

"Alright." he said for now, then, "You should rest."

To his surprise, Jonathan agreed with him.

He was already asleep when the Riddler left the room.


	6. Sick Scarecrow

**A/N: Hey, people! Here's another chapter! Hope you like!**

**Disc- don't own Gotham or the peoples in it.**

Eddie woke up around two a.m. the next morning, unsure of what had awakened him. Then he heard it.

A soft moan, followed by a fit of coughing echoed down the hall.

Eddie clicked on the lamp beside him and dragged himself out of bed.

?

Down the hall, Jonathan Crane tossed fitfully in his bed, unaware if he was awake or asleep. One minute he was ice cold and the next his very blood seemed to be boiling. Every few minutes he was gripped by an uncontrollable coughing fit, which made his fractured ribs ache and his lungs burn as he gasped for air.

Suddenly the light flicked on.

Crane coughed a few more times and grimaced, forcing his eyes open. They watered, making the man by the door seem like he was underwater. The man came closer and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Hey," he said, struggling not to yawn, "you alright?"

"Do I _look_ 'alright'?" hissed the Scarecrow.

Eddie had to admit that he didn't. The Master of Fear's face was flushed, a sharp contrast to its usual pallor, and his eyes were blood-shot and red-rimmed. He'd been fine when Eddie had gone to bed the night before…

Smothering another yawn, the Riddler gingerly touched his fingertips to Jonathan's forehead. Crane flinched away instantly, feebly poking at Eddie's arm.

"Relax." Eddie commanded, "I'm just seeing if you have a fever."

"What do _you_ think?" Jonathan demanded hoarsely.

"You've got a fever." the Riddler conceded, removing his hand.

"Hold on, I'll go get you some Aspirin."

?

Two hours later, the Scarecrow had finally fallen back into a fitful sleep and Eddie stumbled back to bed, trying to convince himself that the only reason he had stayed up was to make sure that the Master of Fear didn't break another rib with his coughing fits. He hoped this would blow over soon. If Jonathan got pneumonia or something, the Riddler would probably be forced to bring him to the hospital, and then they'd take him back to Arkham. And that was the _last_ place he wanted to go. Plus there was the little matter of what had happened to the Scarecrow in the first place. Was it a random mugging; a heist gone wrong? Or was it something bigger than that? Could whoever had hurt Crane still be trying to kill him? What if they had left him for dead and Eddie was the only reason he was still alive? Would they come back to finish the job?

As much as he hated to admit it, the Riddler had no answers to any of these questions. And the harder he thought, the more tired he became, until, exhausted and puzzled, the Riddler feel asleep.

**A/N: Poor Jonathan! Hopefully he won't get too sick. What did happen to him, anyway? The answer may surprise you. : ) Thanks to the reviewers! You guys are awesome! : D**


	7. No Medicine

**Disc.: Sadly, I still am not the proud owner of Jonathan Crane, Edward Nygma, or Gotham and it's inhabitants.**

Depending on the person, what starts as a cold can easily become pneumonia if left untreated. Normally, Jonathan Crane was one of the people easily captured by the sickness. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on who you were and how you were looking at it, Edward Nygma was _not _going to let this happen. He was going to take care of the Scarecrow. Whether the Master of Fear liked it, or not.

"Open your mouth."

"No."

"Open it!"

"I will not."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Jonathan, it's just a little medicine!"

"It tasted like road-kill."

Eddie glared at the Master of Fear. "_You_ would have been road-kill if I hadn't taken pity on you! Now take your cough medicine!"

Crane was scrunched down under the covers, his face barely visible above the extra blankets the Riddler had given him. But Eddie could still see the face he made as he grimaced up at him.

"I told you, it tastes _awful_."

"It's _cherry_ flavored!" Eddie exclaimed, exasperated.

"Well, I don't like it. And I don't need it. I'm feeling better!"

The Riddler was at his wits end. "You may _feel_ better," he hissed through his teeth, "and you may even _look_ better, but you are _not_ better! Your fever is gone, that's all. Do you _want _to cough up a lung?"

The Master of Fear glared at Eddie for another minute. No, he did _not_ want to 'cough up a lung', but he didn't want to have to take that disgusting medicine, either. 'Cherry flavored', indeed. Still…

Finally, Jonathan reached up and snatched the spoon from the Riddler's hand, sticking it in his mouth before his brain caught up with his actions. He grimaced and shook his head from side to side, but still managed to swallow it before his gag reflex made him want to spit it all back out. Glaring at the Riddler again, Crane threw the spoon across the room with as much force as he could muster, paused long enough to hear it crack satisfyingly against the opposite wall, then sank beneath the covers once more until all that was visible was a few tufts of reddish brown hair.

The Riddler sighed, and retrieved the spoon. He supposed Jonathan had thrown it to get a rise out of him, but Eddie was just grateful that the Scarecrow had taken the medicine. He _was _doing better, but he was still coughing quite a bit. And he was _not_ getting pneumonia. Not if Eddie had anything to do with it. Sticking the spoon inside his pants pocket, the Riddler headed for his make-shift study. It was time to try to figure out just what had happened to the Master of Fear.

**A/N: Yay, Jonny's better! Will Eddie figure out what happened to him? Thanks to the reviewers, once again! You're all awesome! :D **


	8. How to Leave a Wounded Scarecrow

_**Disc: don't own Jonathan, Eddie, or Gotham**_

_Jonathan Crane was suddenly jolted awake by a very bright light. He opened his eyes and blinked in annoyance. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw Eddie coming towards him. _

_The Scarecrow grimaced. "Light off_, Nygma."

Pointedly ignoring the remark, Eddie touched Jonathan's forehead. "How are you feeling?"

The Master of Fear shook the Riddler's hand off, and shut his eyes, refusing to answer.

The Prince of Puzzles had just about had enough. "Jonathan Crane," he snapped, "I cannot help you if you refuse to tell me how you feel."

"I'm fine." Jonathan mumbled without opening his eyes.

"Don't lie to me."

The Master of Fear blew out an aggravated sigh. "…My head hurts."

Eddie nodded. "Well, ok, let's take a look."

Carefully, he pulled back the bandage from Jonathan's head to look at the stitches.

"AUGH!" Eddie exclaimed, jumping back.

"What? What's wrong?" Jonathan yelped, struggling to sit up.

But Eddie was laughing.

Jonathan glared at him, flopping back down on the covers.

"Not funny, Nygma."

Still chuckling, Eddie went to the door. "I'm going to get you some toast or something, but I can help you sit up if you'd like."

"I can do it myself." Jonathan muttered sulkily.

"No you can't."

"Yes…I….ouch!"

The Master of Fear slipped and collapsed on the bed again, hitting his head on the headboard on the way down.

Eddie rolled his eyes and made his way over to him. Sliding a hand beneath the Master of Fear, he levered him up. This time, Jonathan didn't protest.

?

On his way to the kitchen, Eddie passed the small green table where his cell phone lay. He paused. Last night's search for information regarding the Scarecrow's attacker had failed miserably. Despite his thorough search for information regarding Jonathan's cohorts or past underlings, he'd gotten no leads and had eventually fallen asleep at his desk. But maybe if he could ask around…The Riddler shook his head. Even if he _did_ know who to talk to, he couldn't leave Jonathan alone…not like this. He eyed the phone again. But maybe…maybe he wouldn't have to…

**A/N: To be continued….mwahaha! :D thanks again for the reviews! :D**


	9. The Babysitter

**A/N: Jonathan's in for a wild ride…**

**Don't own jonny, eddie, or gotham.**

"_**YOU'RE WHAT?**_"

Eddie sighed and picked up the half-eaten piece of toast that the Master of Fear had just dropped. "I have to go run some errands." the Riddler said calmly, "And since I can't leave you here all by yourself, I'm leaving _you_ with a babysitter."

The Scarecrow smacked a hand as hard as he could on the blanket.

"Absolutely not! I am the Master of Fear! The Lord of Despair! Not some _infant_ to be watched over and spoon-fed!"

"First of all, _nobody's_ going to be 'spoon-feeding' you. Second, I am _not_ leaving you here by yourself. Pam is _more_ than capable of taking care of you."

Jonathan screwed up his face and puffed out his cheeks, and for a minute Eddie thought he was going to throw a full-blown tantrum. But then, he blew out a gust of air and crossed his arms, glaring hard at the Riddler. Eddie rolled his eyes.

"You don't have to like it."

"I won't."

"Whatever."

A knock resounded on the door and Eddie turned to go answer it. A few minutes later his was back again.

"They're here!" he announced brightly.

Jonathan's frown deepened. "'_They're_ here? I thought it was just Ivy!"

Eddie shifted slightly.

"Yes, well….Harley was staying with her and she wanted to come, so…"

"_**HARLEY'S HERE?"**_

"Well, um…"

Suddenly the door burst open, spilling an extremely bubbly, pig-tailed blonde.

"HI PROFFESAH CRANE!"

**A/N: uh-oh…**

**Thanks so much for the reviews!**


	10. Revenge of the Babysitter

**DISC.: don't own Eddie, Jonathan, Harley, or Ivy**

_Maybe if I close my eyes really tight they'll go away._

_Yeah._

_And then I'll open them and they'll be gone, and this will all have just been a bad, pain-killer induced dream…_

"Hey, Proffesah, why ya squeezen' your eyes shut an' mumblin' like that?"

The Scarecrow groaned. It was no use, they were still there.

"Harley, why don't you go watch cartoons or something?" asked a red-haired woman who had just entered the room.

Harley got up from her position on the bed, barely an inch from the Master of Fear's side.

"I dunno… I think he's delirious or somethen'. He keeps moanin' an' stuff."

The woman by the door rolled her eyes. "Just go, Harl. I'll take care of him."

Crane's eyes snapped open. "'take care of him'?" _That_ didn't sound good at _all._

"LOOKLOOKLOOK!" Harley screeched directly into his ear. "HE'S AWAKE! HIS EYES ARE OPEN! NOW WE CAN SEE IF HE'S DELIRIOUS! HEY, PROFFESAH! ARE YA DELIRIOUS?"

The red-head quickly made her way over to the bed.

"Harley, please! He just woke up."

_Shows how much _you_ know, Ivy_. the Scarecrow thought miserably.

Pamela made a shooing motion at Harley. "Go." The child-like clown pouted, and began to get off the bed. "Oh, alright…" Then, much to the Master of Fear's chagrin, she jumped back up and threw her arms around his battered body, making his broken ribs throb painfully. "Get well soon, Proffesah!" she chirped happily, then, mercifully, let go and bounced out of the room. Jonathan didn't have much time to feel grateful. Pam was advancing towards him and he suddenly wished that he hadn't deliberately broken all of the heads off of those petunias the last time they'd met. Maybe she'd forgotten…

"H-hi, Pam." he started cautiously.

"Shut up, Crane."

Jonathan's mouth snapped shut. She remembered. His mind raced. Now what? He wasn't afraid. No. It was just…he didn't have his toxin handy…and she had lots of plants…and thorns…and vines only _too_ eager to strangle him at a moments notice…

But he was fine.

The Master of Fear.

Fear incarnate.

Yeah.

Refusing to be intimidated, Jonathan stared up at Poison Ivy as she came closer.

"Listen closely, Crane," she hissed, "because I'm only going to say this once. The only reason I'm taking care of you, is that I owe the Riddler a favor. However," -she smiled wickedly- "I only promised I'd keep you _alive_."

_Uh-oh…_

Before Jonathan could react, Ivy turned to the doorway, one hand cupped around her mouth. "Oh, Haa-aaarlee-eey," she sang.

"No!" Jonathan cried. "Please…I'll do whatever you want! Well…maybe not 'whatever'…but I'll do _something_! Just don't let her near me!" Pam smiled again. "Tempting offer…but I think this will be _much_ more fun to watch."

Just then, Harley Quin bounded into the room. "Yeah?"

Pam's smile grew. "How would you like to show Jonathan your babies? I hear pet-therapy is _very_ affective." The Master of Fear's eyes widened in horror. "No! I…" But it was too late. With an exuberant "Ok!", Harley Quin had run to get the hyenas.

?

Edward Nygma was exceedingly irritated, and getting more so by the second. He'd scoured the dirty back-road, where he'd first found the Scarecrow, countless times and come up empty every time. There was simply _nothing_ there. "Riddle me this," the Prince of Puzzles mumbled to himself as he traced a gloved finger through the grit along the alley, "doesn't the criminal always come back to the scene of the crime?"

_Apparently not._

It was getting late, and it was beginning to rain. He should really be heading back, but first he'd pick up something for supper. He didn't feel like cooking tonight.

The Riddler hoped Jonathan liked Chinese food.

?

The Scarecrow would have gladly eaten _anything _if it meant that he could be away from Harley's "babies" for even a few minutes.

The "babies" on the other hand,- "Bud" and "Lou", twin overly-friendly hyenas- were only too happy to lay on either side of the Master of Fear and slobber all over his ears. He'd try to push them away multiple times, but the gesture registered in the animal's tiny brains as a friendly touch, and they, thinking it was a game, slobbered all the more. Jonathan shoved Lou (or was it Bud?) away again. "I am the Master of Fear! Not a chew toy! Get off!" Bud (or was it Lou?) gave him a sound lick across the face, making one side of his hair stand up as if gelled. "AUGH! LEAVE ME ALONE! SHUT UP, IVEY!" Pam, sitting just out of reach of the Scarecrow's spindly arms, was getting quite a kick out of the spectacle. Jonathan stopped struggling for a minute, breathing heavily and clutching a hand to his ribs. Why, out of all the people and rogues in Gotham City, did things like this _always_ have to happen to him? He hadn't even _done_ anything recently! Why, why, why…

"Aw, come on, Proffesah, they _like_ you!" Harley weedled from her perch beside Ivy. "Yeah? Well I _don't_ like them! Get them away from me!"

Harley turned uneasily to Pamela. "Maybe I should…" But Ivy cut her off, shaking her head. "It's all part of the therapy. He'll be cured in no time!" Harley looked unconvinced. Then she shrugged. "Ok! Whateva ya say."

Jonathan's eye twitched. She couldn't be serious! She was just going to let these _mongrels_ slobber all over him…"

Then, just when the Master of Fear felt he could stand it no longer, the door opened and the Riddler stepped into the room with a flourish. "I'm back!" he announced, wringing out his dark green trench-coat. "Honestly, you'd think Gotham could stand a night without rain…"

"EDDIE!" Jonathan exclaimed with obvious delight. The Riddler stared at him like he'd just announced a deep heart-felt love for My Little Pony. The Scarecrow blinked. "I…um…I mean…where have you been?"

?

"Well," Eddie chuckled, after Harley, Ivy, and the hyenas had left, "You certainly seemed to have missed me." Jonathan glared into his Chinese food carton. "I prefer you to Harley's _pets_." The Riddler grinned. "Well, thank you, I'm honored."

The Scarecrow grimaced. "I didn't…I mean…I….oh, go away, I'm tired."


	11. Learning to Walk

**DISC: Don't own Eddie, Jonathan, or Gotham.**

THUD.

Edward Nygma shifted but didn't wake up.

THUD.

He rolled over.

THUD. CRASH. "OW!"

The Riddler woke up with a start as a yell echoed down the hallway. "Jonathan?" he called, pulling himself out of bed and staggering into his fuzzy green slippers and question mark bathrobe. A low groan was his only reply.

Fearing the worst, Eddie raced down the hall and threw open the Master of Fear's door.

Jonathan Crane was on the floor by the bed, looking a little dazed and more than a little angry. The Riddler hit the floor beside him, quickly checking for open wounds. Finding none, he stood once more and hands on hips, demanded, "And just _what_ are you doing out of bed?" The Scarecrow glared back up at him. "I'm sick of laying around!" he whined. "My legs are fine. I don't see why I can't use them!"

Eddie leaned against the bed, rubbed a hand across his eyes, and glanced at the clock. "Jonathan, it's 2:30 in the morning. Can we do this some other time?"

The Scarecrow folded his arms stubbornly and scowled, but inwardly, he knew he'd won. "Fine." he grumbled. "I'm kind of dizzy, anyhow. I'll be fine in the morning."

"_Later_ in the morning, you mean." sighed Eddie as he helped the Master of Fear back into bed.

?

Eddie was having a wonderful dream. He was floating, no _flying_, high above Gotham city, and everything was peaceful and quiet. No one to talk to him, no one to bother him, just him. Alone. With his thoughts. It was _perfect_. And best of all, he felt like he didn't have a care in the world. Like he was the smartest and best person. He _was_ the smartest and best person. He was _awesome_! The very wind seemed to declare his supremeness. It whistled around him and it seemed to whisper softly… _Nygma…Nygma….Nygma…_ The Riddler frowned in his sleep. He would have thought that the wind would be a bit more polite. It was getting pretty loud too…_Nygma….Nygma…Nygma…_

"_**NYGMA!"**_

Eddie awoke with a jerk for the second time that morning, the bellow from down the hall ringing in his ears. "I'm coming, I'm coming…" he called down the hall as he stumbled out of bed, nearly tripping on the sheets that his left foot took with it.

?

"Where _were_ you?" demanded the Master of Fear as soon as the Riddler stepped into the room. "I've been calling and calling…"

Eddie rubbed sleep from his eyes. "I know…"

"Well, you should have come then!" Jonathan snapped. "I want to get up." Eddie sighed. "Alright, here we go."

?

A half an hour later, Jonathan had succeeded in getting into a standing position, and wobbling around with Eddie's help, and flailing around, knocking over a lamp, and falling over, without it. And yet, _let no one ever say that Jonathan Crane is a quitter._ Eddie thought to himself with something approaching admiration as he watched the Scarecrow try to lever himself up once again. This time, he was actually able to stand on his own without collapsing. Eddie reached over to steady him, grinning broadly. "Good job!" he congratulated. To his surprise, Jonathan smiled back at him. A small smile, but a smile nonetheless. Then, still wobbly, but more in control, the Master of Fear tottered past him and made for the hallway. And Eddie could have sworn he heard the Scarecrow mumble, "Onward" under his breath.

?

A few minutes and several stumbles later, the Master of Fear collapsed on a chair at the small kitchen table, looking extremely pleased with himself. The Riddler watched as the Scarecrow seem to mentally gather his wits about him. Then Jonathan looked up at Eddie with a startlingly broad grin across his face.

"Eddie," he commanded, "bring me toast!"


	12. We All Fall Down

**DISC.: Don't own Jonathan, Eddie, or Gotham.**

Edward Nygma was near bursting with happiness.

After all, he had a lot to be happy about.

The Riddler was currently working on a wonderful little death trap, he'd recently acquired a beautiful new lair on the edge of town that he had been eyeing for some time, and Jonathan was stumbling around somewhere in the lair and not ordering him about.

Life was perfect.

Of course, one should never say that. Because the moment a person utters that phrase, it's as if they are taunting life itself to bring everything crashing down on top of them.

THUD, CRASH. "Ow. Ow. Ow. NYGMA!"

Except, usually, 'crashing down on top of them' is a figure of speech.

_You know, for a guy who hates asking for help, he sure can be needy._ Eddie thought to himself as he left his work table and hurried to follow the sounds of the injured scarecrow. "Jonathan?" the Riddler called, rounding the corner. His mouth fell open at the sight before him. "Jon…what did…what…" he stammered as he took in the small green table by the couch, now tipped over, and the TV set, now on its side. Jonathan sat awkwardly on the floor between them, one long leg bent crookedly beneath him. The Master of Fear blew out a sigh of frustration and pain. "I just wanted to see if I could walk a little faster. I haven't been as dizzy lately, and …"

Eddie raised an eyebrow before covering his face with one hand.

Jonathan glared up at him.

"Well are you just going to stand there? Help me up!"

The Riddler put his hands on his hips. He knew the Scarecrow was injured, possibly more than previously, but right now he had no intention of helping him to his feet.

"I can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?" he asked.

"Don't patronize me, Nygma!" Jonathan shouted. "_You _were the one that brought me here in the first place! It's not _my_ fault that they did this! That they…" The Master of Fear suddenly seemed to realize what he was saying and caught himself. But Eddie had heard enough. "Who did this to you, Jonathan?" he asked, barely above a whisper, as he crouched down beside the Scarecrow. "Why won't you tell me?" For a minute, Jonathan's glare seemed to soften. Then his eyes hardened again. "You don't need to know." Before the Riddler could reply, Jonathan asked, "Help me up?….Please?"

?

"What's it do?"

"The death trap? Well, hopefully capture the Batman until he can answer a delightfully convoluted riddle! If he _can _that is…hehehe…"

The Scarecrow raised an eyebrow.

"How…diabolical."

Eddie made a face. "Hey, I'm the _Riddler_. What did you expect?"

The Master of Fear had been puttering around the Prince of Puzzle's make-shift "work-shop" for the past half-hour, and he was incredibly bored. There were no interesting chemicals, lab tables, not even a Bunsen burner to entertain him. Just gears, wires, tools, tools, and more tools. There wasn't even a single vial.

"Wouldn't it be more fun to torture him first?" Jonathan asked. "You know, hear him scream a little?" The Riddler rolled his eyes. "The tortures of the mind are infinitely more affective than physical trauma."

"But that's what fear _is_!"

Eddie tightened a gear on his trap a fraction of an inch. "Not necessarily. To invoke fear, you must have some outside stimulus. An "instigator" if you will. Usually pain, or something like that."

Jonathan shook his head impatiently.

"Fear is infinitely more intricate than that. One can show a frightening movie and leave people terrified. It doesn't have to be physical."

While the Riddler realized this was true. He wasn't going to admit that Jonathan was right. So he merely grunted and pretended he was too busy to care.

Jonathan, knowing he'd won, but disappointed his opponent hadn't conceded to the fact, sniffed and turned to the door.

"Where are you going?" Eddie's asked.

"Out."

Before the Riddler could reply, Jonathan was gone.

?

The Scarecrow strode along the street, looking around him, and finding himself wishing he had a second pair of eyes. Anything so he could see everyone and gauge if they were dangerous. He had gone outside, partly to spite Nygma and partly so he could fool himself into thinking that he was free. That it was just a normal day. So far, he was pretty sure that he'd only succeeded with the first. Unless the Riddler was still working on his "death-trap". He might not have even realized that the Master of Fear was gone. Crane sneered at this. He wondered if Edward would panic when he realized that Jonathan wasn't in the lair. _Oh no, where's Jonathan? _The Master of Fear chuckled slightly at this, then stopped abruptly. A man down the block dressed in a muddy trench-coat was watching him intently. Crane's eyes widened. No. They weren't back.

_They were._

?

"Jonathan…Jonathan, this isn't funny. Come out. Aren't you hungry? I just _know_ you're going to jump out somewhere…" Suddenly the door to the lair banged open and Eddie jumped back in fright. Then he saw who it was and his terror turned to annoyance.

"Jonathan! There you are. I've been looking all over for you! Where have you…" Suddenly the Master of Fear lurched toward him, grabbing the Riddler's shoulder and tried to bodily drag him towards the back of the lair. Jonathan was still weak, but Eddie was so shocked, that he offered little resistance. Then his brain caught up with his body. "Jonathan, what are you doing?" he exclaimed, trying to break free of the taller man's grip. The Scarecrow was having none of it. The harder the Riddler struggled, the tighter Jonathan's grip became. "We have to get out of here." he stated simply, stumbling as he dragged Eddie to the back door of the lair. "Now."

Still stunned, the Riddler just managed to snatch his hat and cane before Jonathan pushed him out the door.


	13. Barns and Nobleness

**DISC.: Don't own Jonathan, Eddie, or Gotham.**

"Where are we going?" Eddie asked for about the tenth time since Jonathan had physically dragged him from the lair.

"Somewhere far away." was the Master of Fear's only answer.

The second the Scarecrow had gotten the Riddler out the door, he'd instructed Eddie to find a car, break in, and hotwire it. Thoughts spinning, Eddie had done as he was told, and Jonathan had climbed into the driver's seat and driven off before the Riddler could even buckle his seatbelt. Eddie had no idea where they were going, or why, but he suspected it had something to do with why Jonathan had ended up in his lair in the first place. But the Master of Fear refused to answer his questions, replying only with a shake of his head, a firm "you don't need to know", and sometimes nothing at all.

Eddie couldn't stand it.

"At _least_ tell me where in the city we're going." he pleaded.

"City Limits." Jonathan replied without taking his eyes off the road. "That should be far enough for now."

This frustratingly simple answer only brought more questions to the surface of the Riddler's bubbling mind. But just as he was about to ask another, the small jeep they'd stolen jerked, and finally sputtered to a halt just at the edge of city limits.

Jonathan growled something under his breath and slammed on the gas, but it was no use, the engine was dead. Rather than waste time with a few choice words, the Master of Fear opened his door and looked furtively from side to side. Then he motioned for Eddie to join him. The Riddler did, and started to ask another question, but before he could get the words out, Jonathan clapped a palm over his mouth. Bringing his head down so his Eddie's ear was just inches from his face, he whispered, "Nygma, I need you to listen to me. The car's died so we have to walk, but we have to be absolutely quiet, got it?"

"But there's no one here!" Eddie hissed back, pulling his head away from Jonathan's grip. The Scarecrow shook his head impatiently. "No, but there soon will be if we don't get a move on…who knows how many there are…"

"How many there are of _who_?"

"Never mind. Move."

And with that, the Master of Fear gave the Riddler a little shove and they started walking.

?

Edward Nygma felt like he'd been walking for hours. Jonathan's strength seemed to be returning rapidly, but the Master of Fear still stumbled now and then. Eddie wondered if he could convince him to sit down and rest a while. He doubted it.

Jonathan seemed to notice his companion's discomfort, and said, "We'll be there soon."

No sooner had he spoken the words, than an old, dilapidated barn came into view.

The place looked abandoned and Eddie had a feeling that he wasn't going to be sleeping on silk sheets tonight. But as Jonathan began making the trek towards it, the Riddler sighed and followed him. After all, what choice did he have? Well, truth be told, he _could_ leave the Scarecrow and go home. But then, whoever was after the Master of Fear might be after _him_ to…

A small bead of red liquid fell to the grass at Jonathan's feet.

_The cut on his forehead must be bleeding again…_

Plucking up his determination, the Riddler followed Jonathan Crane to the barn.

?

The second Jonathan opened the door, Eddie stepped back, amazed. The place only _looked _run-down on the outside. It was, in fact, a lot nicer than the Riddler had imagined.

The old door opened into a living room of sorts with a sofa, a small recliner, and a television set with a large dark rug in front of it. A door in the back of the room was open, and Eddie could see a counter and a fridge through it. Directly beside the barn door was another closed one that Eddie figured must hold some sort of bedroom or bedrooms and/or a bathroom. He glanced up in the rafters. And old hay loft was accessible by a ladder off to the side, but it looked a bit rickety for Eddie's taste. He looked back down and surveyed the lair again. It wasn't a mansion by any means, but it was tidy and clean, and surprisingly comfortable.

"Well, are you just going to stand there gawking, or are you going to come in and shut the door?"

Jonathan's voice snapped Eddie out of his revelry and he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.

Ignoring the Riddler once again, Jonathan walked up to a section of wall and tapped on it. Eddie looked at him, one eyebrow raised. Crane grimaced, then stepped back and kicked the wall, nearly falling over as it slowly swung inward. Eddie's mouth dropped open.

"Well! That's certainly interesting! What's…"

"My lab." Jonathan replied, interrupting him. The Master of Fear began descending a flight of steps and called after him, "Food's in the kitchen. Help yourself. And don't bother me."

**A/N: Pretty swanky lair, huh? Sorry for the shortness and …blahness of this chap. I'm still trying to figure out how to transition to another part without it being so boring! **


	14. Chapter 14

**DISC.: I don't own Jonathan, Eddie, or Gotham.**

Edward Nygma was so bored, he felt like taking a walk. And his legs still hurt from getting to the Scarecrow's lair in the first place.

Jonathan had been down in his lab for at least two hours, and Eddie didn't even know what he was doing. He could be _dead_ for all he knew…

"Probably working on some toxin, or other…" the Riddler mumbled as he walked across the room and flopped down on the sofa in front of the television set. Reaching for the remote, he began to flip through channels.

Reality show…click…reality show…click….reality show…click…

"Oooo!" Eddie exclaimed nearly bouncing slightly on the cushions. At last, Wheel of Fortune. Grinning, he began guessing letters, scoffing at the stupidity of the show's contestants. As he watched, a series of small creaks echoed from the far side of the room as the Master of Fear emerged from the hidden doorway in the wall. The Riddler was too absorbed in his game show to notice and Jonathan sneaked up behind him. Vanna White was ticking off letters on the giant screen. The camera went back to a contestant, a large man with a bushy beard. He frowned in concentration. "Buy an 'a'." Eddie mumbled. "'A'."

"'Z'!" the contestant shouted.

"'A', you imbecile!" Eddie shouted back.

"Having fun?" a voice said, right next to his ear.

The Riddler yelped and nearly fell off the couch. Jonathan, right behind him, cackled wickedly.

"Oh! Very funny…" Eddie muttered, brushing himself off nervously.

"It was, wasn't it?" Jonathan replied absentmindedly. He was already walking towards the kitchen. The Riddler followed him.

"So…." he asked, "what's the plan?" Jonathan looked down at him quizzically. "Well…right now I'm going to eat…so…"

"I know that!" Eddie replied indignantly, "what I meant was, what are we going to do? Is there someone after you? Someone I need to know about? Some one who…"

"You know what?" Jonathan asked, cutting him off.

"What?"

"I'm going to eat, and then I'm going to sleep. And for the last time, you _don't_ need to know!"

"But I _do_ need to know!" Eddie exclaimed. "Jonathan, someone is _obviously_ after you. That much is clear. I need to know who, and how you plan to evade them."

Jonathan sighed. "Why?"

"Because I took you off the streets, nursed you back to health, and we're in this together, _that's_ 'why'!"

The Master of Fear stared at the table, refusing to meet the Riddler's gaze. Then he spoke. "I'll tell you….the things you absolutely need to know in the morning."

Eddie opened his mouth to say something else, then closed it.

He had a feeling that for now, this was as good as he was going to get.


	15. Attack

**DISC: don't own jonathan or eddie**

Edward Nygma slid out of bed and started towards the kitchen. He'd barely slept at all the night before, due to his excitement of _finally_ finding out what was going on with Jonathan. Head buzzing with questions, he was about to enter the kitchen when he heard a scuffling noise. Confused, Eddie flattened himself against the wall near the doorway. The scuffling stopped.

The Riddler stayed against the wall for a moment, then shook his head. He was being ridiculous. It was probably just Jonathan.

Armed with that theory, the Prince of Puzzles stepped resolutely through the door, only to come face to face with a huge thug with a gas mask over his face. Eddie gasped, backpedaling, but his wasn't fast enough. Before he could take two steps, the thug had him by the collar, slamming him up against the wall.

"Where is he?" the man garbled through the mask.

"Where's who?" Eddie choked. He had a feeling he knew who the man wanted, but he decided it was best to play for time.

"Crane." the man snapped, "Where is Crane?"

Without him even thinking about it, the words tumbled out of the Riddler's mouth.

"He's not here."

"Wrong answer." the thug growled, slamming Eddie against the wall again. The Riddler grit his teeth in agony as his spine cracked. He tried to move a hand. Maybe if he could grab the man's mask, he could tell who he was…

Then he looked over the thug's shoulder.

Jonathan stood, still in his pajama pants, in the doorway, eyes wide as he took in the situation. Desperately, Eddie tried to keep the thug's attention focused on himself.

"He's…he's not…here." he gasped. "He had to…_go_." He put emphases on "go", hoping Jonathan would take the hint. And for a moment it seemed that he did. Eddie saw the Master of Fear disappear around the corner, and was about to start trying to fight the thug, when Jonathan appeared again, his mask over his face and a can of fear toxin in one hand.

He made a few motions to the Riddler, trying to explain his plan. Eddie watched then coughed grimly, trying to arch his neck out of the thug's grip. This had better work…

It all happened in a matter of seconds.

Eddie had let his muscles relax, making the thug let his guard down. Now he tensed them up, wrenching an arm from the man's grip and ripping his mask off. The Riddler shoved the mask against his own face, just as Jonathan jumped at the surprised thug, gassing him in the face with the toxin. The man fell to the floor, writhing around and screaming something about snakes.

And then it was over, just as quickly as it began.

Jonathan looked at Eddie. Eddie looked at Jonathan.

They stared at each other for a few minutes, and then they slowly took their masks off.

The Riddler leaned heavily against the door-frame for support. Jonathan stepped lightly over the man on the floor and was about to say something when his eyes widened again.

"You're hurt!" he exclaimed, pointing to Eddie's back. It was scraped and bleeding from his rough encounter with the wall. "Oh…" the Riddler replied, craning his neck over his shoulder. "So I am…" he was in some sort of daze, he knew, probably shock. Carefully, Jonathan took Eddie's arm and helped lead him to a chair.

"Hold on."

Going back into the kitchen, Jonathan tied up the thug and searched for the first-aid kit.

His thoughts were racing.

_This was _not_ supposed to happen. Maybe if I'd told him sooner…no. I shouldn't have even allowed him to take care of me…now he'll be hurt and it's my fault…I led them here…_

Shaking his head, which did nothing to clear it, Jonathan dragged the first-aid kit off the shelf and hurried back into the other room.


	16. Greatest Enemy

**DISC: I don't own jonathan, eddie, or gotham**

Edward Nygma lay on his side and stared at the crack of light beneath the door by his bed. He could hear the creaking of the floor-boards outside as Jonathan paced back and forth. The Riddler ached mentally. He wished he knew what was going on. He ached physically too, from his back's rather unorthodox meeting with the terribly solid wall of the kitchen. His mind flashed back to Jonathan gently and silently bandaging his various wounds and then softly, yet firmly telling Eddie to go lie down. His voice had brooked no argument and the Riddler had gone willingly, still somewhat in a daze. But now that the shock had worn off, he wished he would have asked some questions. Eddie _hated_ not knowing what was happening. Carefully, he tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed and sit up, then winced as he felt a few of his cuts reopen. Sighing, he returned to his former position. Like it or not, he'd have to wait for answers.

?

The Master of Fear frowned and ran his hands absentmindedly through his hair as he paced back and forth near the Riddler's room. The thug, who had been tossed uncaringly in the corner, whimpered softly. Jonathan whirled on the man, his eyes snapping viciously. "_Shut up_." The thug squeezed his eyes shut, and bit his lower lip, a small tear appearing in the corner of his left eye.

"Sniveling _idiot_." Jonathan spat, aiming a kick at the man's shin. _How _dare_ he come into _his_ house and think he could just smack Nygma around to get to him? He was working for someone…but who?_

Someone wanted the Master of Fear dead, that much was certain. Jonathan mentally went through a list of his enemies.

_Batman…no, he wouldn't send a thug…Fright…no, she was hiding behind her precious Black Mask…_

He went down his mental list until he'd run out of names. Each one was either busy, or hadn't been heard from in years, some were even dead or presumed dead. There _was _no one else. Unless…

Jonathan stopped pacing.

No.

Not him.

It couldn't be him.

His mind flashed back involuntarily to Arkham. To that tiny cold cell…the beatings…the hunger…electrified bars and continual shock-therapy…and a looming figure dressed in a blue suit and laughing…laughing…

Without knowing how he got there, Jonathan found himself sitting on the floor, his spindly arms clutching his knees to his chest. The thug was staring at him.

"What are _you_ looking at?" the Master of Fear snarled, and the man instantly shut his eyes again, moaning softly. Jonathan got to his feet and shook his head. There was only one thing to do.

?

Eddie was still staring at the crack of light under the door when the door opened, and Jonathan stepped in. "Feeling better?" he asked, the light spilling into the dark room around him making his thin figure look like a black outline. The Riddler nodded, squinting.

"Good. I need you to break into Arkham's computer system."


	17. Enemy Revealed

**Disc: I don't own Arkham or the inhabitants thereof.**

"I swear, Arkham gets easier to hack every year…" Edward Nygma mumbled as he worked on the security code for Arkham Asylum's patient files.

"Then why haven't you hacked it yet?" Jonathan Crane demanded from behind him.

"Patience." the Riddler said, waving a hand at the Scarecrow. "I said it was 'easier' not instantaneous."

Jonathan scowled but waited as patiently as he could while Eddie tried a few codes. A few key strokes later the Riddler grinned and sat back. "And we're in!" he announced, looking expectantly at the Scarecrow. "Now what?"

"Now, I take over." Eddie shrugged and moved over so Jonathan could take his place at the computer.

The Master of Fear scrolled through dozens of files, each labeled for an inmate of Arkham Asylum. After what seemed like hours, he stopped scrolling, banging a fist down on the table beside the mouse. "He's not here…" he mumbled. "Why wouldn't he be here?"

"Why wouldn't who be here?" Eddie asked. Jonathan nearly jumped. He'd forgotten the Riddler was there. Instead of answering the question, the Master of Fear asked one of his own. "Do you know if there's a different bunch of files? Like for top-security inmates?" Eddie nodded. "Oh, sure. There's lots of different file groups. I think there was one for top-security. You want me to hack it?" Jonathan nodded and moved over again. Minutes later, the supposedly secure files of Arkham's most ruthless were laid bare. Eddie moved once more and the Scarecrow took his place, scrolling through the new group. The lair was silent for several minutes as he looked. Then there was a click and a gasp. Eddie looked at the Master of Fear in shock. The Scarecrow's face had gone a ghostly white. He sat there for a few minutes, simply staring at the screen. Then, the Scarecrow stood, and without a word, shakily exited the room. The Riddler thought about going after him, but then thought better of it and instead turned to look at the computer screen.

Staring back at him was a mug-shot of a cruel looking man with beady black eyes and a harsh square jaw.

"**BOLTON, LYLE." **the file read.

"**ALIAS (s): 'LOCK-UP'"**

And underneath this statement was one terrible word in bright red letters:

"**ESCAPED."**


	18. Revelation

**Disc: All characters and places belong to DC comics.**

"Jonathan, _please._ Tell me what's going on."

Edward Nygma knocked on the door to The Master of Fear's room for the umpteenth time in the last hour. "Please?"

A muffled "No." sounded from beyond the door.

The Riddler sighed. He was thoroughly confused. He knew who Lyle Bolton was of course. Bolton had been head of security at Arkham Asylum until he was dismissed because he was "unfit" to care for the inmates. He'd later gone insane began calling himself the name "Lock-Up". After being apprehended by the Batman, he was transferred to Arkham with several kidnapping charges. The Riddler had heard rumors of the horrible things the man had done to several of the rogues at the asylum, but none of the rogues who had been inmates at the time would tell him any concrete truths. Not even Harley, who was open about most things. The Scarecrow had been one of the inmates at the time, Eddie knew, but he'd never said anything about it. So what _was_ going on?

"Jonathan," Eddie asked again, knocking once more, "Why won't you tell me what's happening?"

Suddenly the door flew open, and the Riddler had to jump back to avoid getting hit in the face. The Master of Fear stood in front of Eddie, breathing heavily, eyes wild and a little red around the edges. "_Because, I don't want you to get hurt again,_ that's 'why'!" he exclaimed. For a moment the Riddler merely stood there, eyes wide in shock. Jonathan blinked, and as if realizing what he had just said, shifted from foot to foot, refusing to meet the Riddler's gaze and looking embarrassed. After a few minutes, Eddie blinked as well and shook his head. Then he looked up at the Scarecrow. "Jonathan," he said gently, "I can't pretend that that thug didn't rough me up. I know you….don't want me to get hurt, but things have happened now. And it seems to me that I'll be in more danger if you _don't_ tell me what's going on."

Jonathan bit his lip and looked at the Riddler. And for the first time, Eddie saw a deep sadness in his eyes. Then the Scarecrow blinked and it was gone. "Alright." he said, sighing. "I'll tell you."


	19. The Scarecrow's Story

**Disc: don't own Jonathan, Eddie, and I most certainly do not own Lock-Up**

Edward Nygma still didn't know what had happened to the Master of Fear, and yet, he felt sorry for the man. Jonathan looked so broken, even more-so than when Eddie had dragged him from the streets and nursed him back to health. Crane sat at the small table in the kitchen, head in his hands, staring blankly at the opposite wall. After a few minutes, he sighed and looked at the Riddler. "I suppose I should begin, then?"

"Whenever you're ready."

Jonathan nodded and began to speak.

"I was going home an different way because I'd heard the Batman was near my usual route. On my way, I saw something shadowy and figured I'd better get out of the way in case it was a bat. Now I realize how stupid I was…it could've been nothing more than a bum…anyway, I ducked into an alley and kept walking. Wasn't the smartest thing I could've done. Alleys are always full of bad things, and in Gotham they're usually worse. But it was late and I was tired. And it seemed normal enough at first. A few rats and two or three dumpsters, nothing unusual.

Until _they_ came."

The Master of Fear paused his narration for a minute, sipping at some coffee from a mug on the table. Eddie bit his lip to keep from asking who 'they' were and waited.

"It's a good thing that I kept my guard up," Jonathan continued, "or they would have killed me right then. Massive brutes. Smart, too. Not often that you get that combination."

The Riddler could contain himself no longer. "What did they do? Do you know who they were?"

Jonathan held up a hand. "Be patient. I'll tell you what I can, just let me talk. As I was saying, there were five huge men-they all wore gas masks and all of them knew how to fight. They smashed me pretty badly- you saw it."

Eddie raised an eyebrow. "But if they were so smart and could fight on top of it, why _didn't_ they kill you?"

Jonathan shrugged. "'Smart' is a relative term, Eddie. I meant street-smart. As in, they might not have been straight A students, but they didn't have the IQ of rocks, either. And anyhow, I think they thought I _was _dead."

The Riddler leaned forward, intrigued. "Really?"

The Master of Fear nodded. "Yes, the way I saw it, them being as large as they were, and knowing how to fight, my only chance was to lie down and pretend I wasn't breathing. Play 'possum', if you will. They must have bought it, because I was unconscious shortly after the idea entered my brain. When I woke up, I saw green walls and question marks and knew where I was."

Eddie nodded, giving the Scarecrow a half-smile. "And yet, for all that, you were still mad."

Jonathan averted his gaze, going slightly red as he ran a hand through his hair. "More embarrassed than angry, I think. I had figured that if I survived my ordeal, I'd simply go home, lick my wounds, and heal without anyone knowing of my humiliation."

"Jonathan," Eddie said bluntly, "if you had tried to drag yourself home, you'd be dead right now, or worse. And even if by some miracle you _did_ make it home, that thug that attacked me earlier this morning would have killed you easily in your weakened state."

Jonathan looked at the Riddler for a few minutes, then smiled. "You're right. I..um…don't remember thanking you…"

Eddie grinned. "No thanks needed, Jonathan! Now we have a grand mystery on our hands! Who is hunting you? And why?"


	20. Movingagain

**Disc: don't own Jonathan, Eddie, or Gotham City**

"How much farther?"

"Relax. We're almost there."

"I'm tired. And hungry. And I have to go to the bathroom. Can we stop?"

"No."

Edward Nygma sighed and slumped down in his seat. He and Jonathan Crane had been driving for _hours_ without a break, and it was really starting to get to the Prince of Puzzles. "Where are we going, anyway? We don't know where their base is."

"No," the Master of Fear conceded, "but it doesn't hurt to get a little farther from the city, either. That thug found us, and it's only a matter of time before they wonder what happened to him."

Eddie nodded, trying not to think of the thug's untimely end. "But where are we going to stay? You got more dilapidated looking luxury barns out there?"

"No, but we _can _stay at a hotel. After all, that's probably the _last _place they'll look."

The Riddler sat up. "A hotel? But we'd have to share a room!"

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Yes, Eddie, you're very smart."

Eddie frowned and slumped down again.

"You better not snore."

?

When they finally reached the little run-down hotel at the very edge of city limits, Eddie was about ready to explode. Throwing open the door, he dove out of the car before it had even completely stopped and made a mad dash for the building. He didn't return until Jonathan had rented a room and gone back to the vehicle for their suitcases. "Ahhh, much better." Eddie said, as he pulled his fluorescent green case from the trunk. "What're we gonna get for supper?"

Jonathan hauled his plain brown suitcase from the car and locked it. "We'll find something." The two rogues dragged their bags into the hotel and to their miniscule room. The Riddler dropped his on the floor the second he cleared the threshold and flopped down on the bed, snatching up the small drab-colored catalogue on the bed-side table.

The pamphlet wasn't the only thing drab in this place- as a matter of fact, _everything_ in the room and probably the entire hotel was painted in varying dull shades of tan and gray. Jonathan didn't seem to mind, but Eddie wished there was at least _something_ green. But there wasn't. Not even a plant. His suitcase stood out like a flair by the doorway. "What are you doing?" Jonathan asked, motioning to the booklet Eddie held. "We aren't here for sight-seeing."

"I know…I'm just looking for a descent pizza joint. Aren't you hungry?" The Master of Fear sighed and turned on the sink, splashing water over his face. "I suppose."

?

About an hour later, the two rogues were full and tired. Eddie dragged himself to his bright green suitcase, and pulled out greener still (if that was possible) pajama pants and a t-shirt. Once changed, he threw himself on top of the bed, sprawling his arms out and shutting his eyes.

Jonathan cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, but I'm not sleeping on the floor. Move over."

The Riddler opened one eye. "You're kidding, right?"

"You've known me long enough to know that I don't 'kid', Eddie. Move."

The Riddler stared at the Master of Fear for a second, then reluctantly complied. "Fine. But don't touch me."

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "_Why_ would I want to touch you?"

Eddie raised an eyebrow. "Well, I know I'm fabulous, and…"

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

The Prince of Puzzles made a face and rolled over.

The Master of Fear laid down and shut his eyes. _Hopefully he'd get some sleep…_


	21. Nightmares

**Disc: don't own Jonathan, Eddie, or Gotham**

"No…no, please…"

Edward Nygma shifted in his sleep, trying to block out the voice intruding on his slumber.

"No…why? Why…no!"

Eddie blinked, sitting up slightly. The room was pitch-black. The Riddler felt something move beside him and he rolled over. Jonathan Crane lay on top of the blanket, limbs contorting slightly as his hands clenched and unclenched, his face set into a deep grimace of…pain? Anger? …Fear?

Whatever it was, Eddie could tell that the Master of Fear wasn't getting a good night's sleep. The Riddler watched him for a second, confused. _So, the Scarecrow had nightmares, huh? Interesting._

Jonathan curled up as if recoiling from a blow, but uncurled just as quickly, moving a hand up as if to ward something decidedly unpleasant off. Carefully, Eddie shook the Master of Fear's shoulder.

"Jonathan….Jonathan, wake up…"

Jonathan muttered something in his sleep and twitched.

Eddie shook the Scarecrow's shoulder again. "Wake up, Jonathan. It's ok…it's just a nightmare…"

Suddenly the Master of Fear sat bolt upright, breathing hard, his eyes wide in terror. Then he turned and saw the Riddler.

"What…why did you…" he began, trying to regain composure.

Eddie swallowed. "You were…you had a nightmare. And I…I woke you up."

Jonathan looked at the Riddler for a second and then averted his gaze and ran a hand through his hair, looking embarrassed.

_He'd had a nightmare. Great. And in front of Eddie, too…What if the Riddler told someone? They'd say he was a fake. Master of Fear, indeed. He had nightmares! 'What about?' they'd say. 'What does the so-called 'Lord of Despair' fear?' And then they'd laugh…_

Suddenly, Jonathan felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning back, he looked at the Riddler. Eddie gave him an awkward half-smile. "Hey…it's fine. It's not like I'm going to tell anyone…we all have nightmares."

Jonathan blinked, then, hesitantly, smiled back and lay down again.

"…thanks, Eddie."

"No problem."

?

Jonathan Crane woke up realizing he'd forgotten to shut the blinds as sunlight began streaming into the hotel room. Blinking sleepily, the Master of Fear glanced at the clock. He gasped. It was eleven o'clock in the morning! They should have been on the move _hours_ ago…

Reaching over, Jonathan tapped the Riddler. "Eddie."

"mmmm…yeah, I'm a genius…"

Jonathan rolled his eyes, realizing that Eddie was just mumbling in his sleep.

"Edward."

"…_sure_, I'll solve your puzzle for you…hehehehehe…"

"_Nygma!_"

"What, where? Whozatt?" Eddie yelped, jerking awake. Jonathan sighed. "Will you calm down? It's just me! We slept later than intended, so get moving. We should have left a long time ago."

The Riddler nodded and rubbing his eyes, slid out of bed.

"You know, you talk in your sleep." Jonathan said, offhandedly.

Eddie turned to him. "What did I say?"

The Master of Fear bit his lip. "Something about…puzzles…." The Riddler grinned slyly. "Oh yeah…_puzzles_…hehehehehe…"

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Just get ready."


	22. Plans

**Disc: Don't own Jonathan or Eddie or Gotham**

"Jonathan, I have to go. Really, really bad."

"Well, that's just too bad, isn't it? I told you you shouldn't have drunk that entire bottle of pop, but would you listen to me? Noooo…"

Edward Nygma frowned and crossed his legs, staring disconsolately out of the car window. Another day, another road, and he didn't know where he was going now, either. "Jonathan…"

"Calm down. We'll find a bush somewhere."

Eddie groaned. They were driving through the countryside, open fields everywhere.

Not a bush in sight.

The car was silent for all of ten seconds.

"Riddle me this, Jonathan…"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"We should play a game."

The Master of Fear ran a hand over his face and sighed.

"Alright, Eddie. Why don't we play the quiet game? Whichever one of us talks first, loses."

The Riddler slumped down in his seat. "That's a stupid game…"

"Ah, ah, ah…" admonished the Scarecrow, waving a finger at his companion. "You're losing already. Now 1,2,3..."

_Silence._ _Blessed, peaceful silence._

"OOH! LOOK!"

Jonathan swerved wildly. "WHAT?"

Eddie looked like he was actually tearing up. "It's a…gas station!"

Jonathan fought the urge to strangle the other man as he turned into the lot and parked. The Riddler threw open the door and ran to the Super America doors like he was racing towards the Pearly Gates. Jonathan sighed, he hoped Eddie would at least bring him some chips.

?

Eddie did, in fact, bring chips. And pop. And candy. And trail mix. And crackers. And spray cheese. As a matter of fact, the Master of Fear was pretty sure there wasn't much that the Prince of Puzzles _didn't_ buy. Eddie lounged in the front seat, digging into a bag of sunflower seeds- the two liter of Coca-Cola far away from him, he wasn't about to make _that_ mistake again. Jonathan reached over and snatched a few chips from the open bag on the floor as he turned at the next intersection.

"So…" Eddie asked, after he'd devoured the seeds, "Where exactly are we going?"

"Metropolis."

The Riddler almost spat out the chips in his mouth. "Metropolis?"

"Yes."

"But why?"

Jonathan looked at him. "Because we need to be out of the city so I can…think of a plan." Eddie shook his head. "I can't believe this. You're running away!"

Jonathan slammed on the breaks, making the car fishtail and skid. Once he regained control, he said as calmly as he could, "I am _not_ 'running away'."

Eddie nodded. "Yes, you are! You're going to Metropolis because you think that this is all just going to blow over, don't you?"

Jonathan scowled and pulled over.

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" he yelled, turning to the Riddler. "I can't stay there, I might get killed, you might get hurt again…"

"'Might' is the key word, there, my friend." said Eddie, looking evenly back at the Master of Fear. Jonathan looked back at them, and slowly, his shoulders slumped. "I don't know what to do, Eddie." he said quietly, looking blankly out the windshield. The Riddler watched him. "Neither do I, Jonathan. But we can't just leave. They'll probably follow anyway. Although, we should still go to Metropolis. It'll at least buy us some time to actually think of what we can do in different scenarios. We should have a rough outline of a plan, at least."

Jonathan nodded. "Yeah…"

"Hey," Eddie said, touching the Master of Fear's shoulder. "It's ok…we'll figure something out…"

Jonathan nodded and said what both of them were thinking: "Hopefully."


	23. Waffles

**Don't own Jonathan, Eddie, or Metropolis, or Gotham.**

Jonathan Crane lay once more in a somewhat cramped hotel bed of a somewhat drab hotel, staring at the ceiling. Edward Nygma lay on his back beside him, mouth open and snoring like a freight engine. The Master of Fear rolled over and poked him.

SNORE.

Poke.

SNORE.

Poke.

"Huh? Wazzat?" Eddie mumbled, then curled into a ball and resumed sleeping before Jonathan could answer.

The Master of Fear watched the Prince of Puzzles sleep and wished he could do the same. He'd gone from nightmares to insomnia and it wasn't fun. Worrying about what he could and should do about the Bolton situation wasn't helping either. The Riddler shivered in his sleep. Jonathan pulled the blankets further over him before rolling onto his back again and resuming his staring contest with the ceiling.

?

"Wakey, wakey!"

Jonathan groaned as a voice intruded on his consciousness. Slowly he opened his eyes and found himself staring into a pair of bright green ones a half inch from his face.

"Gah! Eddie!"

The Riddler sat back. "Sorry! I was only trying to see if you were awake…"

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "If I was awake, my eyes would have been open."

"And now they are!" Eddie said, grinning. "Come on! I went downstairs and ate already." Jonathan nodded and prepared to get out of bed and make the trip down the stairs. His still-healing ribs ached in protest as he sat up.

But Eddie waved a hand for him to lie back down. "I brought you a waffle!" he said cheerfully. The Master of Fear blinked. "Breakfast in bed? _This_ is new." The Riddler shrugged. "I figured you deserved it. What with all the running we've been doing and you not sleeping well last night…"

"How'd you know I didn't sleep?" Jonathan asked, cutting him off.

"You poked me around three A.M., remember?" Eddie replied.

Jonathan nodded. He had to hand it to the Riddler, not much got past the Prince of Puzzles.

Eddie handed him the tray and a glass of milk and Jonathan gave him a rare smile as he took it. They would have to think up a plan…but for now, he'd enjoy his waffle.

**a/n: SOO sorry this is so short! I'll put a better one up soon, I promise!**


	24. Hotdogs and Schemes

**Disc: don't own Jonathan, Eddie, Metropolis, or Superman**

Edward Nygma walked, hands jammed in his pockets and a frown on his face, beside Jonathan Crane along one of the many paths in the park at the center of the buzzing city or Metropolis.

The Riddler wasn't particularly angry because they were trying to think of a way to remedy the Lockup situation. Right now he was more upset because the Master of Fear wouldn't let him stop to grab a hotdog from a vendor. The Prince of Puzzles was about to make a comment about the emptiness of his stomach, it had been _such_ a long time since the complimentary breakfast at the hotel, but stopped when he saw the Scarecrow's expression. Eddie stood up a little straighter and observed Jonathan as they continued walking. The Master of Fear was apparently lost in thought, but instead of the half-grimace he usually wore when he was seriously thinking, a sad frown graced his features. It was almost as if he'd already given up.

But the Riddler wasn't going to let him do _that_ in a hurry. No, he was going to help the Master of Fear and he was going to succeed, or his name wasn't Edward Nygma. With this valiant thought in mind, the Prince of Puzzles said, "So…what's the plan?" Jonathan blinked, as if he'd forgotten the other man was there. He looked at the Riddler for a second and then turned, slumping down on a park bench. Eddie perched beside him and waited for the Master of Fear to say something.

"The way I see it," Jonathan said after a moment, "the only way to fix the problem is to find its source and eliminate it."

Eddie nodded. "So, you're saying we should find Bolton and get rid of him?"

Jonathan nodded. "Something like that."

"Ok…but how do we find him? He could be _anywhere_."

The Master of Fear nodded. "True…but we have to start somewhere."

Eddie nodded again. "Ok, so I'm guessing our best bet would have probably been back in Gotham?"

"Not necessarily. You said he could be anywhere. If he _was_ the one sending those thugs, and I'm fairly certain it was, judging from what the one who attacked you said before his end, he's probably smart enough not to be in the same city. Bolton is big and cruel. But he's also paranoid. All those locks? Not just for the city's protection, I'll bet. He would want to be out of the city before he sent his assassins. So there's still a good chance that he would be here."

The Prince of Puzzles looked at the Scarecrow, impressed. "Ok…so we start looking here? Ask around, look for leads?"

Jonathan nodded. "Even the 'sparkling city' of Metropolis has to have a bad side. We'll start there."

Eddie agreed, then grinned. "Ok, but first let's grab a hotdog!"

**a/n: again, veery short. I am SO sorry, you guys. I love you all! 103 reviews? Wooow! :D I **_**never**_** thought I'd get so many! Thanks so much. And I hope to defeat writer's block and get a longer chapter up soon! Thanks again! :D**


	25. The Desert Island

Edward Nygma bit his lip and set down the needle he was holding, rocking back on his heels. Taking out stitches was harder than putting them in and he was glad that Jonathan was under a sedative. He was not glad, however, that he was going to have to deal with the Master of Fear's tantrum when he woke up and realized that the Riddler had drugged him.

But, the stitches had to be taken out, and Eddie had wanted it to be as quick and painless as possible for the both of them. Jonathan hadn't even tasted the drug in the glass of water that Eddie had brought him when he was searching a map of the city for abandoned buildings and possible entrances to an underground market. It had just been a sleeping pill, perfectly safe, and it would only last a few hours. Picking up the needle, Eddie began once again to unstitch the wound.

Several stitches later, Eddie swabbed the area around the cut with alcohol and re-bandaged the wound. Jonathan would be waking up soon and he wanted everything to be done before then.

Tossing the soiled bandages and paraphernalia, the Riddler tucked a blanket over the Scarecrow's still form and went to the computer. He'd see if he could get any leads in the meantime.

?

Jonathan woke slowly, groggily registering that he was lying on the bed in the hotel room.

_But why…_

He didn't remember lying down…all he remembered was the water and then he was so tired…

Oh. Oh!

"NYGMA!"

"Shhh!" Eddie said, rising from the small chair in the corner and shutting his laptop. "There's no need to yell, I'm right here!"

"You drugged me!" Jonathan said accusingly, a bit quieter this time.

The Riddler nodded. "Yes, I did. Those stitches needed to come out and I didn't think you'd want to be conscious while I did that. Anyway, you're fine. It was a sleeping pill, that's all."

"We've lost time!"

"No, you have. I already found some leads. There's a club downtown called the Desert Island. Not a very reputable place. We'll start there."

Jonathan looked at Eddie for a second, then smiled. "Good work."

The Riddler smiled back. "That's what I'm here for."

?

The "Desert Island" was indeed a seedy place, and looked a lot like a rundown version of the Iceberg Lounge back in Gotham. Apparently this was where all the more infamous citizens of Metropolis met and conducted "business", among other things. A few drunk looking waitresses milled about the crowd, and a woman, who looked like she'd rather be anywhere but here, sang show tunes half-heartedly on a small stage in the corner. The 'stage' was little more than a few planks of wood nailed together and set atop a stack of crates, leaving plenty of room for the rickety array of tables, all stained or vandalized in some way, that sprawled across the rather dirty main room.

"I simply _love_ what they've done with the place." Eddie remarked sarcastically, picking at his dark jacket sleeve, which was probably more expensive than this entire establishment. Because they didn't want to be recognized, he and Jonathan were dressed in clothes other than their usual attire-a dark t-shirt and jeans for Eddie, and the same for Jonathan in all black. Both wore leather jackets.

"We're not here to admire the décor." Jonathan said in response to the Riddler's comment, "We just need information."

"I know, I know…" Eddie replied, "Just let me do the talking, ok? No offense, but you're not exactly a 'people person'." "Fine."

The pair sat in one of the less stained booths in the corner, facing the rest of the restaurant. They'd barely sat down when a waitress, who luckily didn't look as drunk as the rest of them, sashayed up to their table.

"What can I get you boys?" she half slurred.

Eddie was about to ask what was on the menu when Jonathan said firmly, "We're fine, thanks."

The waitress shrugged and said, "Suit yourself." before swaying over to another table.

"Hey!" Eddie said, as soon as she was gone. "What do you mean, 'we're fine'? We could order _something_. And besides, _I'm_ supposed to do the talking."

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Too bad. Now listen closely to everything and keep your eyes peeled. I don't want to run into trouble."

Eddie nodded and tried to act casual as he surveyed the restaurant. There were little bunches of people here and there, mostly thugs…no one that looked too important. Certainly no super villains. This didn't look like the kind of place Lex Luthor would frequent. Jonathan was listening hard. From where they were sitting, they could hear some things but not much. He wished that that stupid singer would stop her screeching so he could listen. And then he heard it.

"…See them?"

"Who?"

"Them. Over there. You sees 'em?"

"Yeah, I see 'em."

"That who we're lookin' for?"

"Think so."

"Let's move before they leave."

Trying to act natural, Jonathan softly kicked the Riddler under the table. He turned. "You know, you could just tap me or something, you don't have to kick…" Eddie saw the look on the Scarecrow's face and stopped talking.

"Are they here?" he mouthed.

Jonathan nodded. "I heard them talking." he mouthed back.

Eddie nodded and made a nearly imperceptible nod at the door. The Master of Fear could see no other option and nodded back.

The two rogues rose as one and turned to the door, trying to walk quickly but give nothing away.

Behind them, Jonathan heard a few scuffing sounds of chairs being pushed back. _Were they being followed?_

The Scarecrow pushed Eddie softly towards the door.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Get out." Jonathan said back. "I'll hold them back. Just leave."

Eddie stopped moving. "No can do, Jon. I'm staying with you."

The Master of Fear scowled. "No. I want you to stay…safe."

The Riddler shook his head and stood his ground. "We're in this together."

Jonathan looked at the Riddler and sighed. "You're still with me?"

Eddie grinned. "Of course."

And they both turned to face the thugs.


	26. Battle

Jonathan Crane stood his ground as one by one, thugs began to rise from the chairs at the tables in the Desert Island. Shifting slightly, the Master of Fear positioned himself a bit in front of Edward Nygma, only to find that the Riddler was trying to shift in front of the Scarecrow.

The thugs began to advance and Jonathan tried to figure out how many he could take on at once. He knew kung-fu, but he was sorely out of practice since his…accident and there was no way he could take on all of the huge thugs at once. Eddie was sliding what looked like a compact tube out of one sleeve. The tube slid open and stretched out like a telescope, revealing a long slender cane with a sharp-looking question mark at the top. "He's got the Riddler with 'im." one of the thugs muttered.

"Don't matter. We'll take 'im, too." was the reply.

The two groups stared at each other for a moment.

And then Jonathan made his move.

Leaping forward, the Master of Fear feigned to the left, making the front-most thug charge in that direction. Jumping to the right at the last possible second, Jonathan grabbed the off-balanced thug by the shoulders and flipped him over. Smiling grimly, the Scarecrow felt his strength returning with the rush of adrenaline. He could see the Riddler out of the corner of his eye, slashing left and right with his cane, almost dancing as he hacked the larger men away. Jonathan, in a sense, was doing the same thing, "violently dancing" as he leaped this way and that, punching and ducking, weaving his supple body back and forth, trying to confuse the huge men.

For a moment, it looked like they were gaining the advantage.

And then the goons recovered from the surprise attack.

The Scarecrow was still kicking and punching when two thugs grabbed him from behind, catching him completely off guard. Struggling, he tried to kick back at them, but they were too strong.

Twisting his head, the Master of Fear tried to call to Eddie, tell him to leave and get as far away as possible so he wouldn't get killed. But no sooner had he opened his mouth than a meaty fist came hard up against the side of his head, silencing him.

The Riddler turned, just in time to see the Master of Fear slump to the ground. His eyes widened.

And then he saw the bigger problem.

Stepping over the unconscious Scarecrow, the thugs began to advance on the Prince of Puzzles.

**A/N: Yes, it's short. And I'm sorry. But I had to have this transition chapter in there. More soon!**

**As always, thanks so much for the reviews! I never thought I would get so many!**

**Disc: Don't own Jonathan or Eddie**


	27. Gone

Jonathan Crane came too slowly, gradually registering an extremely painful throbbing just above his left ear. _What happened…_ he thought to himself, trying to remember what had gone on prior to the agony. Then he remembered.

Eddie.

The Master of Fear forced his eyes open and with strength he didn't know he had, he shoved himself off the dirty floor he was lying on. Around him in a little half-circle, several women in short blue skirts and low cut white tops stared at him.

They looked like the…waitresses? Was he still in the club?

Jonathan tried to say something, but his words came as a cough and he remembered one of the thugs kicking him in the stomach right before he'd been knocked out.

He spat and a stream of blood splattered onto the floor, dribbling a bit on the sleeve of his now ripped leather jacket. Swallowing, the Master of Fear tried again.

"Where…is he?" he rasped. His voice sounded like his throat was filled with gravel. He certainly felt like it was.

A few blank stares answered his question. A small knot of worry began to root in the pit of the Scarecrow's stomach and he shoved himself further off the floor, getting to his knees and looking around the club.

The bar was in a state of ruin, even worse than it had looked before the fight. Tables and chairs had been overturned and broken glass was everywhere. The pitiful excuse for a stage was empty, the singer obviously having fled for her life to seek easy money elsewhere. The bartender was looking nervously over the counter from his seat on the floor, as if trying to see if it was safe to come out yet.

And there was blood.

Blood on the floor and on the tables and back door. Jonathan looked down at himself. A few cuts, several bruises, but nothing that would constitute that much blood. Near Jonathan, a spot of blood stretched out into five long stripes ending at the bottom with a half-circle was smeared on the floor.

A handprint.

The knot in his stomach turned into a throbbing black hole and he stood, facing the dumfounded waitresses.

"Where _is_ he?" he said again, nearly yelling this time. This seemed to snap the women out of their reverie and one stammered, "He…they…took him."

Jonathan's eyes widened with anger and pain. "_They WHAT?"_

"It's like she said!" another waitress spoke up. "They jus' beat 'em up an' took 'im. He was in real bad shape, too. Blood everywhere, an'…"

She stopped speaking as Jonathan grabbed her by the throat.

"Which way?" he growled. "Which way…did they go?"

The waitress said nothing, just pointed with a shaking finger at the door. Jonathan's hand flexed around her throat and for a brief moment he thought about just crushing it, right then and there. After all, she had watched Eddie get hurt. Watched him be dragged out and…and…

No. Killing her wouldn't solve anything. Besides, if he did he'd probably have the cops and Superman after him. They were in Metropolis, after all.

Worse, they might call Batman in.

Ending up in Arkham wouldn't help Eddie. He had to leave. If there was this much blood in here, there had to be a trail, at least for a little while. It was a start. Dropping the coughing waitress, the Scarecrow went out the door.

He only hoped he could find the Riddler before it was too late.

If it wasn't already.

**a/n: well, here's the nxt chapter! Thanks for the reviews as always and I hope you continue reading! **

**Disc: don't own Jonathan, Eddie, Batman, Superman, Arkham, Gotham, or Metropolis.**


	28. Search

Edward Nygma had no idea where he was.

He felt only two things.

Pain and grief.

Pain because it felt like his entire body had been fed through a meat processor, then sliced open so his organs could be rearranged.

And grief because Jonathan had been hurt and he had no idea how badly. They could have killed him right then and there…

_They could have killed me too, but they didn't…_ the Riddler thought to himself. His head throbbed. It even hurt to think. He couldn't open his eyes. Something beeped softly near him and a sharp pain in his left arm was suddenly added to his already agonized body. A burning sensation, like a wave of fire washed over him.

And he surrendered to the blackness.

?

Jonathan Crane walked down one of Metropolis' back-roads, one hand pressed to the side of his head as if to stifle the pain.

But there was a deeper pain he couldn't stifle.

He hadn't found a trail. Well, he'd found a trail, but just a small one. A few drops of blood, leading nowhere. They ended at the street, which meant that they'd probably dragged the Riddler into a car and driven off. And they were long gone now.

The Master of Fear cursed and banged his fist against the brick wall of the nearest building. He was just aimlessly walking now, little more than wandering. He had no idea where to go and no way to get there. The car was back at the hotel and they might have thugs stationed there.

He'd have to steal transportation and then…then what? He had to go _somewhere_. He couldn't stay here. And he couldn't go back to Gotham. Sinking to the ground in an alley, the Scarecrow put his head in his hands and tried to think. Where could they have gone? Somewhere in Metropolis? Gotham? Or someplace else all together?

He had to start somewhere. Thugs were like ants. Where there was one, there was most certainly more around, no matter if you could see them or not. Jonathan decided he'd go downtown and ask around a little bit. But keep a lower profile. Act like a homeless person if he had to. Anything to find Eddie again. _If there was anything left to find…_

Angrily, Jonathan smacked his forehead, aggravating the large bruise that was spreading on the side of his head where the one thug had hit him. If he was going to look for Eddie, he had to think positive. Eddie used to…did….always try to be optimistic…

Taking a deep breath and trying not to think about the Riddler, Jonathan got up and headed back towards the bad side of town.

He had to find a thug and get him talking.

**a/n: o wow! What is this? Two chapters in one day? Well, I was inspired. XD hope you like it! :D**


	29. Thugs and Revelations

"What do you know?"

"I-I don't know anything, I swears it!"

"I said,_** TALK!**_ I remember you…you were at the club the night they took him. So _where is he?_" The Scarecrow growled into the face of the terrified thug he was now holding by the collar. The dim light in the alley flickered around them, as if the shadows themselves were terrified. Jonathan did indeed remember the miserable thug. The man had a three inch long scar down one cheek that looked like it had been dealt with a knife blade. A blunt knife blade. The thug whimpered and Jonathan shook him again. "_Tell me_," he hissed, "Or so help me, when I am done with you, you'll be _begging_ for death."

"Ok! Ok!" the thug yelped. "I'll tell you…I only knows so much, so please don't gas me or whatever you're plannin' on doin'!" The Master of Fear dragged the shaking thug up by the collar again, until the two were nose to nose. "Do as I say and I might not hurt you. Now _talk_."

The thug nodded hurriedly and then said, "Awhile ago a buddy o' mine starts talkin'. He says there's a new guy in the narrows. An' he don't wanna deal no drugs, neither. Jus' wants t' find some people, an' recruits. Dunno what for. Anyhow, my buddy, he asks me if I want in. Says there'll be cash. Lots of cash. So, naturally, that catches my attention, so I says I'll do it. An' then we goes down t' the narrows an'…"

"Who did you meet?" Jonathan interrupted, unable to contain himself. "_Who did you talk to?_"

The thug began shaking again. "I dunno! I jus' met one o' his associates! Ya know, some right hand man or somethin'! I dunno nothin'! All I knows is I had t' be down at th' Island the next night! Tha's all, I swear!"

"And you _helped_, didn't you?" Jonathan growled. "You _helped_ drag him away! _**WHERE IS HE?**_**" **Jonathan shook the thug violently and the man screamed involuntarily. "I DON'T KNOW! I DON'T KNOW! OH, PLEASE DON'T HURT ME!" The Master of Fear slammed the hysterical thug against the wall of the nearest building and snapped his wrist back, allowing the canister attached to it to spray its contents in the pitiful man's face.

Jonathan let go, letting the screaming thug fall to the ground at his feet. He stared at the man for a few minutes, eyes blazing. Then he turned and walked away.

?

The Riddler had no idea how long he'd been laying there. Hours? Days? Weeks? Did it even matter?

_Of course it mattered._ Eddie thought. It no longer hurt so much and he could think things over now. But he could also feel his aching ribs and one particularly jagged pain up the side of his chest, like a line of fire. _That must be the place that one thug cut me._ the Riddler thought as he remembered the one thug at the club that had had a knife. His wounds weren't open, he knew that much. They felt bandaged, but not professionally. More like someone had just taken a bunch of random scraps of rags and wrapped them haphazardly over and around his various abrasions. For the millionth time, Eddie found himself wondering if they'd taken Jonathan as well. He still couldn't open his eyes, as they burned every time he had to move them, and he had no idea who came and went in the room. From time to time he'd heard noises. Shuffling feet, the same soft beeping noise that he'd heard when he was barely conscious, a dark, bone-chilling laugh…he hoped the laugh was from a nightmare.

But most of all, he hoped that the Master of Fear was alright.

?

Jonathan's swift walk away from the thug had turned into an all-out run and now he was out of breath, with a stitch in his side and sweat on his face.

But even he couldn't convince himself that it was just sweat.

The Master of Fear wanted to kick himself. He'd lost his temper and because of that he was now back to square one. He sat down heavily on the pavement and rubbed his aching side. He felt something pull away from his forehead and reached up, realizing it was the bandage that Eddie had so carefully placed over the healing wound where Jonathan's stitches had been. The Scarecrow pressed it roughly back into place, his thoughts from earlier echoing through his mind. _…back to square one…_

His eyes opened wide.

_Or was he?_

Jonathan stood, pacing back and forth and thinking hard about what the thug had said.

"…_new guy in the narrows…"_

_The narrows! Was he talking about Gotham?_

And suddenly it all made sense.

Bolton had known they would try to leave after his thug had attacked Eddie. Then, when he'd realized that they were going to look for him, he sent thugs to the club. To wait for them.

But why Eddie? Why not both of them? To torture Jonathan?

Somehow, the Master of Fear knew that that was probably why. It was all just some sick, twisted game that the Scarecrow was being forced to play.

Well, he would play.

And he would win.

"I'm coming, Eddie." Jonathan muttered as he headed back into the city to find a car.

**Disc: don't own Jonathan, Eddie, Gotham, or Metropolis.**

**Thanks for all the reviews! :D**


	30. Nightmares and Spiders

**Disc: don't own Gotham, Metropolis, Jonathan, Eddie, or other characters.**

_The room was dark, but for some reason, Jonathan Crane could still see the man in chains at its center. The Master of Fear couldn't see who it was at first, as the man had his back to Jonathan. Another man, larger than the shackled one, stood above the first man, wielding some sort of club. The larger man hit the smaller one over and over until the first man crumpled to the ground, chains clanking around him. But for all this, he made no sound. Jonathan watched in horror, trying to cry out, stop the smaller man's torment, but he couldn't. Suddenly, he realized that everything had gone from black and white to color. The large man wore a light blue outfit with black accents, and the smaller…Jonathan struggled to see. Needed to see. _

_Suddenly the chained man turned, looking directly at the Master of Fear. His face held a mixture of anger and fear, as well as an accusing glare. _

'_This is your fault' he seemed to say and the Scarecrow realized with a start that the beaten man's clothing was a brilliant shade of green._

Jonathan Crane sat bolt upright, the sheets of his bed tangled around him and his skin damp with cold sweat. "Just a dream…" he mumbled to himself as he tried to stop his hands from shaking. He said it again, louder this time, needing to hear the sound of his own voice. Something real. "Just a dream…"

But the reality was far worse.

The Master of Fear ran both hands over his face and slid out of bed, feeling far too awake, even though it was one in the afternoon. He should have been exhausted. And he had been, a few hours ago. Anxious to find anything that could help him find the Riddler, Jonathan had stolen a car and then driven through the night to get back to Gotham City. It had been dawn when he reached his lair, and there had been no problems with his insomnia when he crawled, clothes and all into bed, pausing only to discard his shirt as he lay down.

Now, he went to the door, intending to go out immediately and seek information in the Narrows. He placed his hand on the doorknob, then stopped.

It was light out. And by unspoken mutual consent, most people in the darker parts of the Narrows did not conduct 'business' until after dark. The Master of Fear pulled at the sleeve of his tattered leather jacket, and suddenly realized that he was wearing the same clothes from two nights ago. And while all of the dust and traces of blood on his clothing may serve to make him look 'tough' to the people of 'downtown', the filth made Jonathan feel suddenly shabby and decidedly unkempt. Taking his hand off the doorknob, the Master of Fear went into the other room to shower and change.

He glanced at the clock on his way to the bathroom. Night could not fall fast enough.

?

A small spider inched its way along the wall towards Edward Nygma's face. He blew at it half-heartedly and coughed, glancing blearily around again at the blackness that surrounded him. The Riddler had long since awakened from his pain and drug-induced stupor, but the second he opened his eyes, his mouth and nose were covered with a strong smelling rag filled with chloroform. The next thing he knew, he was chained against a damp, cold wall. It was pitch black at first, but as his eyes adjusted, Eddie had begun to see the outline of bricks around him and small things near him, like the spider, which seemed to have been deliberating whether or not the Riddler was worth climbing over for the past hour. Eddie knew he was in a cell, but he still had no idea where the cell was, or if anyone was around. He could only guess as to Bolton, a.k.a. 'Lockup's, location was, but he was pretty sure he was close. After all, his thugs had been responsible for bringing Eddie here…at least he was pretty sure of that.

The Riddler wasn't too clear on most things at the moment, mostly just the aching of his wounds, the steady, draining pain of filling his lungs with oxygen, and the spider.

And of course Jonathan.

Eddie shook his head, then wished he hadn't as pain surged through his neck. _Jonathan was ok. He had to be._ At least, that's what the Riddler had been telling himself for the past hour. He hoped the Master of Fear wasn't in worse condition than himself.

The Prince of Puzzles shifted slightly, trying to find a better position, but, forced to stand in one place, as he was chained by his wrists and ankles to the wall, there was really no way to get more comfortable.

The spider on the wall ceased its deliberation and began to crawl across the Riddler's chest, which was bare now and covered in places by haphazard bandaging. Eddie closed his eyes as he felt the brush of the creature's small feet prickle his skin. If Jonathan was looking for him, he hoped he'd come soon.

**a/n: so sorry this chapter is late! More soon and as always, thanks so much for the reviews! And I apologize if the story seems to be stuck again, it's really not. I'm building up to something, you'll see. Thanks again!**


	31. Information Overload

**Disc: don't own the characters or cities**

Jonathan Crane parked his small beat-up car in an alley and walked cautiously down the dirty street, using the shadows to his advantage. To the average person, walking on foot in the Narrows was a foolhardy thing to do. Something only the very lucky and very stupid did. But Jonathan new where to step, who to talk to, and how to slip into the background until he seemed nothing more than shadow. He knew what areas belonged to what gangs and who was apt to shoot first and ask questions later.

But that didn't mean he wasn't going to be careful.

Besides, the car wouldn't do much in the way of protecting him, anyway.

The Master of Fear slipped silently into the doorway of a seemingly abandoned warehouse and knocked twice. The door opened instantly and Jonathan walked in, pulling his mask slightly out of his pocket.

He nodded at the thug inside.

"George."

The thug spotted the mask and nodded back.

"Scarecrow."

The Master of Fear checked behind him briefly for signs of traps and/or hidden thugs and then said, "I need to see White."

George turned without a word and headed for the back room.

Jonathan checked around himself once more while he waited, touching his sleeve to feel the brace beneath it that held several vials of his toxin, as well as the trigger mechanism to send the gas shooting into any attacker's face.

No sooner had he done this, George returned.

"Th' boss wants t' see ya."

Jonathan nodded and walked past the thug and up some steps to the back room a few flights up, keeping his peripheral vision trained on the man until he was out of sight.

The last thing he needed was to get shot in the back.

The Scarecrow strode quickly to the back of the warehouse and rapped sharply on a wooden door of an 'office'.

"Come in." came a voice from beyond the wood paneling.

_Strange…_ Jonathan thought idly as he pushed open the door, _The Great White Shark must have a cold. _

And his voice _did_ sound deeper, somehow. Or maybe it was just the Master of Fear's paranoia.

The mob boss stood, his back to Jonathan, shrouded in shadow and staring through the window in the back of the office at the flickering lights of the city.

Jonathan waited.

"You wanted to see me?" White asked without turning.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. _There was definitely something wrong with White's voice. Maybe his vocal chords were finally giving in to the warping they must have received from the freezer he'd been locked into. _

"Yes." the Master of Fear replied to the Shark's query. "I need information."

"And what makes you think that _I_ can supply it?"

Jonathan snorted. "Oh please. Let's not play this game. I know we haven't exactly been friends in the past, but if you think hard enough, I'm sure you owe me a favor. Nearly everyone does. Besides," Jonathan said, trying a different tact, "You practically own the Narrows. Everyone knows it. Not much goes on around here without your noticing, so you must know _something_ about what I need to know."

For a moment, White didn't respond. Then he began talking again, though it sounded as if it was more to himself than Jonathan.

"This place is like a cancerous tumor that spreads over time but never quite kills its victim. But we'll soon change that."

The Master of Fear frowned in confusion, suddenly feeling uneasy. This didn't sound like the Great White Shark at all. Warren White? The man who used the chaos of the city to his advantage, trying to rid Gotham of corruption?

This wasn't like him at all.

As a matter of fact, he was starting to sound a lot like…

"Yes, I'll change that." White began again. Then, suddenly he turned.

Jonathan strained to see the man's face through the shadows.

"Change will begin. Starting with…" the man stepped from the darkness, "…you."

"No…" Jonathan whispered, eyes widening. "No…"

He tried to raise his arm; tried to gas the monster in front of him. But before he could get his arm up even halfway, it was wrenched back by the thug who had been at the door. Jonathan, going suddenly limp with shock, turned, just in time to see George bring the butt of a gun down hard on his temple.


	32. Reunion

**Disc: don't own characters or Gotham**

Slowly, the Master of Fear opened his eyes. He was standing. _Why was he standing._ More accurately, _how_ was he standing? His head hurt so much…

Everything was pitch black and Jonathan was surprised that he could even determine that his eyes were open. He supposed he could because it hurt so much when he moved them. Suddenly, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Jonathan? Are you awake?"

The voice was familiar, and by far the best thing the Scarecrow had heard in days.

"Eddie!" he exclaimed, nearly shouting the name. "Eddie, where are you?"

A cough sounded from somewhere near him, echoing off the walls of wherever they were.

"I'm right next to you…" the Riddler said, breaking off to cough again. Without thinking, Jonathan jerked forwards, trying to reach the Prince of Puzzles, then gave a sharp gasp of surprise when he discovered that he was immobile. Moving his wrists and ankles slightly, the Master of Fear realized that he was cuffed to the wall behind him.

_No. He'd come so far. Finally found Eddie. And now he couldn't even see if he was alright…_

"It's ok." Eddie said again in the silence. "The important thing is that we're both alive. They come in sometimes with food and water, or to lead me to the bathroom. So it isn't like we're chained 24/7. We'll be…*cough, cough*…we'll…*cough, cough*…be fine…" the Riddler stopped talking and the sounds of a coughing fit rang through the cell for the next minute or so.

Jonathan bit his lip to keep from screaming about the unfairness of it all. Eddie hadn't even done anything.

_It's all my fault…_

Suddenly the door to the cell opened, spilling a nearly blinding light into the room. Jonathan squinted and could just make out a large form that looked like a thug.

"Food." the man grunted and dropped a tray in front of the rogues, motioning for another thug to come in behind him. Jonathan's eyes were beginning to get used to the light and he turned to face Eddie.

But the Riddler's head was on his chest, his eyes closed as he breathed in and out, the sound raspy.

Jonathan bit his lip.

They had to get out of here.

**a/n: I am so sorry this is so short but more is coming soon! Thanks so much as always for all of the reviews!**


	33. Uncertainty

**Disc: don't own characters or Gotham**

The guards unlocked Jonathan's cuffs first. The Master of Fear dove forward just in time to catch the Riddler, who simply fell forward. The Prince of Puzzles put up no resistance, slumping against the Scarecrow, his head resting on Jonathan's chest. The guard that had unlocked them motioned to the tray his companion had brought and then left without a word.

Cradling the Riddler's head in one arm, Jonathan reached for one of the glasses of water on the tray. He took a sip, and, not tasting anything out of the ordinary, then held it to Eddie's lips.

"Come on, Eddie…" he said, tilting the glass slightly. "Drink. You'll feel better." Slowly, the Riddler did as he told, taking small sips at first and then big gulps as if he hadn't drunk anything in days. Suddenly, he began coughing again, spluttering into the glass. Jonathan took the cup away, propping the Riddler up and gently patting him on the back. "It's ok…you can't drink so fast…" Eddie nodded, reaching for the glass again. Jonathan handed it to him, murmuring, "You're still with me." It hadn't been meant as a question, but Eddie answered it anyway.

"Of course."

The Master of Fear blinked hard and reached for a dry piece of bread on the tray.

Suddenly, the door opened once more and another guard entered. He went straight to Crane and grasped his arms, trying to pull him up from the floor. The Master of Fear resisted, but Eddie pulled himself up again, and turned to the Scarecrow.

"Go. They'll hurt you if you don't, and this way you might find out more of what's going on."

Jonathan bit his lip, looking at the Riddler. _What if he didn't come back? He'd never see him again._

_No._

_He would come back. He had to._

Nodding, Jonathan got to his feet and allowed the guard to half-drag him out the door.

**a/n: again, I am INCREDIBLY sorry about the painful shortness of this chapter. But I will make it up to you with a chapter tomorrow. I'd write more if it wasn't so late. Thanks for your patience and the reviews!**


	34. An Unexpected Turn

**Disc: don't own characters or Gotham**

Jonathan Crane found himself being led through some sort of tunnel, his hands cuffed by a pair of high-tech looking handcuffs. _We must be underground…_ he thought to himself. At points the ceiling leaked, dripping water onto the back of his neck, and once he thought for sure he'd seen a rat.

Either that or a small dog.

He supposed that they could be in a sewer, but if so, what part? There were sewer systems all of Gotham. Were they even _in_ Gotham anymore?

Suddenly, the guard jerked his arm, leading him up to a huge steel door. The guard rapped three times and waited. After several minutes, the door was opened by another thug, who motioned for them to enter.

Jonathan looked around. Everything in the room was a dark grey, except for a wrist brace and several vials of a greenish liquid on the large metal desk across from the Master of Fear. Jonathan's eyes widened. _His fear toxin! But what was it doing here? No matter. If he could just reach it…_

Suddenly, a door he hadn't noticed before, probably because it blended in so perfectly with the wall, opened and a man that Jonathan had hoped he'd never see again stepped out behind the desk.

"Hello, Scarecrow." he purred, an evil smirk dawning on his square, hard features. "Looking at your precious toxin?"

The Master of Fear bit his tongue, hard, refusing to be taken in.

"You want it?" the man taunted, "Come get it. Or do you want to go back to your cell and watch your pitiful friend's dying moments?"

That did it.

The Scarecrow leaped forward, heedless of the cuffs and baring his teeth and snarling like a wild animal. "LET HIM GO, BOLTON!"

Bolton stepped forward, the chain that crossed the front of his suit glinting in the glow of the single light bulb that hung from the ceiling. "No, I don't think I will. As a matter of fact…" he strode closer to the Master of Fear. "I think it will be more fun to watch him die. Slowly. Do you think he'll blame you when he draws his last breath?"

Jonathan didn't think about what he was going to do.

He just wanted to wipe that smirk off of Bolton's face. To make him shut up and pay for all he'd done. Was this how Batman felt when he fought the rogues?

Leaping forward, the Scarecrow attacked Lockup.

?

Edward Nygma pushed himself off the floor and stood shakily. The guards hadn't bothered to lock him onto the wall again, and he figured he should enjoy his relative freedom while he could. He'd eaten a piece of bread and sipped at the water again, being careful to leave some for Jonathan when he came back.

_If he came back._

The Riddler shook his head. The Master of Fear _would_ come back. He simply had to.

_Didn't he?_

Eddie wished he had a lock pick. Anything to get out and see what was happening. But even if he did have something, how would he overcome the guards outside?

The Riddler looked around the room for anything that he could use as a possible weapon.

Then his eyes fell on the tray.

And Edward Nygma got an idea.

?

Bolton stumbled back, unprepared for the blow he had just been dealt. Jonathan fell to one side, unable to stop himself with his hands cuffed together. Angry now, Lockup reached down to haul the Scarecrow up by the collar, but the Master of Fear was too fast for him. Rolling over, Jonathan pushed himself up, ignoring the pain in his wrists as the cuffs scraped against them. He glanced hurriedly over at the desk. He was only a few feet away. _If he could just reach that toxin…_

Bolton snarled, angry that his prey had outsmarted him and leaped after the Master of Fear who, again, just barely dodged the overgrown bully. Lockup may have been bigger than Jonathan, but the Scarecrow was a great deal thinner and it was easier for him to dodge blows.

But that didn't make him invincible.

Lockup swung with both fists and Jonathan, unable to dodge both at once, took one to the jaw, the blow sending him reeling into the side of the metal desk. He lay dazed for a moment and then realized that Bolton was coming back, unwittingly having thrown him right for what the Master of Fear had been trying to get to all along.

Reaching up onto the desk, Jonathan snatched up his toxin and quickly aimed it at the approaching Lockup. Toxin sprayed out of the wrist pump, but, dazed as he was, Jonathan miscalculated and aiming the spray about a foot to the left of Bolton. The Scarecrow gritted his teeth, preparing to aim again, but Lockup was there now, knocking away the toxin and reaching down to grip Jonathan's throat. The Master of Fear's vision cleared and he found himself face to face with Bolton's sneer.

?

"Let me out!" Eddie yelled, banging his left fist on the door of the cell and trying not to cough. What little strength he had left was fading fast and he knew there wasn't much time. "Do you hear me?" he tried again. "Let…me…out!"

Suddenly the door opened and the Riddler came face to face with an angry guard. "Shaddup, you…" But the thug didn't have time to finish his insult. Drawing strength that he didn't know he had from deep within himself, Eddie lifted the tray with his right hand and brought it smashing down on the guards head. The thug crumpled instantly and Eddie looked out beyond the door to the cell. The room opened up into a long tunnel that smelled of rust and mildew. No one else was in sight. Reaching down, Eddie pulled a gun from the thugs belt and, taking several deep breaths and smothering a cough, headed off down the tunnel.

?

Jonathan gasped for air as Lockup tightened his grip around his throat. "Didn't I tell you you were scum?" Bolton raged, shaking the Scarecrow. "You, and the rest of the so-called 'rogues gallery'! You don't deserve to live!"

Everything was going fuzzy and the edges of the Master of Fear's vision were tinged with black. Desperately, he fought for oxygen as he felt his limbs growing cold.

And then he heard it.

A shout, followed by a loud bang echoed around the room, and Bolton howled, dropping the Scarecrow. Jonathan landed heavily, bringing a limp hand up to massage his throat and taking in huge gulps of air. His vision cleared for the second time and he gasped. Edward Nygma stood in the doorway, a smoking gun raised in shaking hands. Lockup was lying on the floor, half-curled. For a moment, Jonathan thought that the Riddler had killed Bolton, but then Lockup groaned and the Master of Fear realized that he was clutching his left leg.

Pushing himself up, Jonathan reached for his toxin. He couldn't afford to take chances. Just as he picked up a vial, he heard Eddie shout and heard the Prince of Puzzles running towards him. "Jonathan! Look out!"

The Master of Fear looked up in horror to see Bolton dragging himself around the back of the desk. With shaking hands, Jonathan threw the vial of fear toxin at Lockup's head. Bolton howled once more, clawing at his face with one hand. Dimly, the Scarecrow heard the sound of a metal drawer being opened. And then Lockup opened blood-shot eyes, his expression mixed with anger and fear. Lifting his other hand, Bolton shoved a gun into the Scarecrow's face.

"NO!" came a shout from behind the Master of Fear as the Riddler ran forward. Confused, Lockup moved the gun, cocking it and firing. The shot went wild.

There was a bang, a scream, and the Riddler crumpled to the cement floor.

**a/n: I promised you a longer chapter, didn't I? **


	35. Conclusion

**Disc: don't own characters of Gotham**

"No…no….please, no…Eddie…."

Jonathan Crane cradled the Riddler in his arms, heedless of the blood that was slowly seeping into his clothing. It couldn't end. Not like this. Not with the Riddler just falling to the ground, blood everywhere…

No. This wasn't happening. It was a dream. A horrible nightmare that he just had to wake up from and then it would all be ok, and Eddie would be fine, and nothing would be wrong.

But no matter how many times the Master of Fear tried to make himself believe it, he knew it wasn't true.

So he just held his friend close and begged him to live, even though the Prince of Puzzle's heart-beat was fading with each passing second.

The bullet had gone in through the rib-cage, breaking several ribs and just missing the Riddler's heart.

The Scarecrow had tried to staunch the blood-flow as best as he could, but there was so much blood…

"Please, Eddie…I-I need you to live…please…"

?

Edward Nygma felt like he was floating. It was dark, and there was no pain. No gunshots or screams. Just peace. He liked it here. Here, the Riddler felt like he could float forever, just swim in the never-ending blackness.

And then he heard it.

A sound, like a muffled sigh, slowly breaking through to his ears.

"…Eddie…"

Was that his name? Inwardly, the Riddler paused and tried to focus. But it was so hard…and the blackness was so peaceful. It would be so easy to just forget everything and simply sink into oblivion.

But then he heard it again.

"…Eddie, please. Don't do this to me….please…"

That voice. It sounded so familiar…and desperate. And as much as Eddie wanted to just slip away and not have to deal with the pain, somehow he new that this was more important. That he needed to resurface and tell whoever was begging him to live that he was ok…that he was just sleeping…he'd wake up soon….

_Wouldn't he?_

It was this thought, combined with the sheer desperation of the voice of the person trying to awaken him that brought Eddie back a little more from the brink. And with the slow resurfacing came pain. Terrible, agonizing, fiery pain that seemed to be trying to rend his very insides in two.

And the voice.

It was speaking more urgently now, seemingly on the verge of a total melt-down.

"Eddie, please…please, wake up. Eddie…please…._please_…"

A warm drop of liquid suddenly dripped onto the Riddler's face and dribbled down his cheek to his mouth. It tasted like salt-water. The voice had gone from desperate to broken as it continued its pleas.

"Please, Eddie…"

And slowly, painfully, the Riddler forced his eyes open a crack.

A tall thin man was looking into his face, his features flushed with despair. The man's eyes were red-rimmed and two thin trails ran through the layer of grime on his face.

Trying to find his voice, Eddie opened his eyes a little wider and croaked, "Jonathan…"

Then, suddenly, the Riddler found himself engulfed by a pair of spindly arms, his face pressed into the slightly damp fabric of Jonathan's shirt, as several drops of warm liquid once more dripped on the back of his neck.

There was complete silence for some moments, and then the Master of Fear spoke.

"Y-you're still with me." he murmured shakily.

And summoning the last of his strength, the Riddler replied, "Of course."

?

The Riddler opened his eyes, slowly adjusting to the light flooding into his room. Turning his head slightly, he saw Jonathan sitting in a chair by the bed and smiled. The Master of Fear smiled back, getting up and moving over to sit on the edge of the bed. "Sleep well?" he asked, pulling back the quilt to examine the still-healing wound on the Prince of Puzzles chest. Eddie nodded.

"It's healing fast." Jonathan concluded, pulling the quilt over the Riddler once more. "You were very lucky."

Eddie smiled. "You say that every day."

"And I mean it every day."

The Master of Fear sighed, looking off into the distance for a moment. Eddie knew what he was thinking.

"He was hurt. He couldn't have gotten far, and I highly doubt his thugs helped him."

Jonathan didn't look at the Riddler. "But what if he's still alive?"

"Then he knows not to mess with us!"

The Master of Fear let a small smile creep onto his features.

"And at any rate," Eddie said, putting a hand on the Scarecrow's arm, "I'm still with you."

Jonathan turned, smiling fully at the Riddler.

"Of course."

**a/n: well, this is it, folks! The last chapter! I want to thank you all for the reviews and encouragement throughout this whole fic. You all deserve cookies!**

**Thanks again!**

**~Scar**


End file.
